


red lights

by colorsofmyseason



Series: a thousand senses [7]
Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Arsenal FC, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:54:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 18,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24621967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colorsofmyseason/pseuds/colorsofmyseason
Summary: It turns on, red lightTwo of the red lightsIn front of the hot sun and you're the red lightA series of one-shots and drabbles about the supers in Arsenal FC and how they deal with being one, especially since things aren't as easy for them in their daily life.
Relationships: Bernd Leno/Lucas Torreira, Bernd Leno/Marc-André ter Stegen, Calum Chambers/Rob Holding, Gabriel Martinelli/Bukayo Saka, Héctor Bellerín & Lucas Torreira, Héctor Bellerín/Dani Ceballos, Héctor Bellerín/Kieran Tierney, Mikel Arteta/Robin van Persie, Pierre-Emerick Aubameyang/Alexandre Lacazette
Series: a thousand senses [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1718806
Comments: 10
Kudos: 36





	1. The distance between you and me (onesided!Bernd Leno/Lucas Torreira, minor Steno)

**Author's Note:**

> So, I finally decided to start another series (yes, I know I haven't updated my original series for awhile, feel free to shoot me). It's still set in the same universe, but it's about Arsenal.
> 
> And yes, I know they're not the most popular team nowadays but I just love them so much *cries*
> 
> Each chapter will contain their own characters, theme and genre, I'll make sure to mention them in the notes before every chapter.
> 
> Hope you will enjoy the stories.
> 
> The title of this series is inspired by f(x)'s Red Light.
> 
> Warning: English is not my mother tongue.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucas Torreira falls in love with a tall, blonde, glove-wearing German at his new club.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by [this photoset](https://66.media.tumblr.com/fb60c1f9cb009d1967705f140891ad73/tumblr_pita92443q1ssxlli_500.png).
> 
> Please note that I love Lucas Torreira, and I love his bromance with Bernd Leno (guess I kinda have a thing for Tol and Smol couple XD), but Steno is and will always be my OTP, so... I'm sorry Lucas :'(
> 
> Set during 2018/2019 season.
> 
> Featuring: wizard!Lucas, wizard!Héctor, and light elemental!Bernd.
> 
> Warning: Light angst and unrequited love.

Lucas Torreira doesn’t remember when _exactly_ he started falling for Bernd Leno.

Maybe it’s the first time they had their first training session together. Lucas had been unable to sleep properly the previous night, heart full of jitters and nervousness which he’s all too familiar with – the feeling of being a new guy in a new team in a whole new country. But Leno had approached him, and when the German smiled shyly at him and whispered, “I’m Bernd Leno, nice to meet you”, Lucas felt something flipped in his stomach immediately.

(And _damn_ , Leno had dimples. And Lucas thought they’re just the cutest thing, ever.)

Probably it’s the first time Leno was finally called into action in Premier League, when Petr Čech had to withdraw from the match because of injury, and Lucas honestly thought it’s a crime that the ex-Leverkusen keeper wasn’t called to his national team during the 2018 World Cup. And he remained firm in that thought with every passing match. Leno’s still adapting to the Premier League, that’s for sure, but he’s improving each time, and seeing how the German keeper used his whole body – no, probably even his whole _life_ – to keep the balls from entering his net, Lucas understood why the club was willing to pay quite an amount for a goalkeeper.

Or perhaps it’s the moment he sensed Leno’s _other_ abilities. For sure, he didn’t dare to even _think_ about it that much, not in this country, let alone talk about it (even without Héctor practically dragging him to the Spaniard’s house one day after training and lecturing him about all the do’s and don’ts regarding supernatural life in England, he already knew that it’s unsafe to use magic too much there). And goodness, with Leno’s blonde hair that always seemed to catch the sunlight whenever he’s outdoor and his rare yet genuine smiles that lit up his face like rays of sun after a storm, Lucas knew that Leno’s power exactly suited him to a T.

It could also be when Musti invited him to Leno’s house to play FIFA with a bunch of their other Arsenal teammates. Lucas wasn’t the best FIFA players in the whole world, so despite of his efforts, he had to see himself out of the competition from the first round, but he stayed and watched as Leno annihilated the others one by one – Musti, Sead, and finally Granit. And then he became an amused eyewitness as Leno did a little victory dance which was a little uncharacteristic for him, since the German keeper was usually shy and didn’t talk much, yet Lucas would be lying if he said he didn’t find it adorable.

But Lucas thought that the most defining moment between him and Leno came during the North London Derby, when Arsenal had to face their bitterest rival, Tottenham Hotspur. Lucas had had a great game, if he might say so himself, playing well in the midfield and even scoring his first goal for Arsenal. And Leno, despite conceding two goals, had been able to make a few amazing saves as well, and they’re able to walk away from the pitch with their head high and the scoreboard showing 4-2 for them.

Still, Lucas was startled when he suddenly felt Leno’s arms thrown around his shoulders in a friendly way, and as he looked up at the German keeper (damn the 22 centimetres of height differences between them!), he found Leno smiling at him, dimples in full view and blue eyes sparkling like the ocean near Lucas’ hometown.

“Great game today, Lucas,” Leno said, enunciating each syllable as clearly as possible – a little gesture maybe, but it’s something that Lucas was – and still is – absolutely thankful for. “You were amazing, and the goal was incredible, from such an angle. I wouldn’t be able to save it myself.”

“Thank you,” Lucas muttered, feeling his face heating up from Leno’s words. He didn’t really catch the big words, but he understood that Leno’s praising him, and though the goalkeeper wasn’t the first one to do so, for some reasons, Leno’s compliments simply sent his heart soaring high to the sky. “You…ah, you do not do bad too.”

Leno laughed softly. “I still conceded two,” he said, and there’s a slight disappointment in his voice. “I wish I could do better, but we won this derby, so all’s well.”

Lucas nodded in sympathy. He knew that conceding goals was always hard for goalkeepers, despite of what the end result might be, and Leno might be blaming himself for that, especially for Spurs’ first goal. But aside of that, the German had pretty much shown his class particularly in the second half, and Lucas was sure that Leno’s mistakes for that goal could be easily forgiven.

He wanted to say it all to Leno. He wanted to console the German, saying that not everything’s his fault, that the team was happy to have him no matter what, et cetera et cetera. But his English was still shaky at best, and his accent’s even worse, and one quick glance around told him that Musti wasn’t there to interpret (and on second thought, considering what he wanted to ask Leno for, it’s better not to have a third party meddling on his business anyway), so he had to settle with what he could.

He hugged Leno. Not a friendly, arm-thrown-around-shoulder thing that the keeper did earlier, but a _real_ , big hug, his head buried into Leno’s chest for good measure. He could tell that Leno was surprised, certainly not expecting Lucas to embrace him like that, but the German keeper hugged him back, and he could feel Leno’s hand softly patting his head – like a small animal maybe, but Lucas was used to it, as someone who’d always been shorter than his teammates. And he liked Leno’s touch.

They stayed in that position for a few minutes, and when they finally released each other, Lucas took a deep breath. “Leno,” he started, wondering for awhile whether he should use the German’s first name instead but decided against it, “I, ah, I want to ask, uh…”

“Yes?” Leno asked encouragingly.

“If you have, uhm, time, you want to have lu-“

“Luquitas! Come here, quick! You need to give post-match interview today!”

Hearing those Spanish words, spoken in an atrocious Uruguayan accent, Lucas put a hand on his face and let out a small groan. He didn't need to look around to know that it was one Héctor Bellerín calling after him. And regarding the post-match interview, he’d been expecting that, actually, having scored his first goal for Arsenal and all, but the Spaniard calling him at that very moment certainly destroyed every single courage he’d been trying to accumulate ever since he and Leno hugged each other earlier.

A firm hand was placed on his shoulder and Lucas looked around to find Leno with an apologetic smile on his face. “It’s okay, Lucas. You have to do an interview, right? You can shoot me your question some other time, or maybe you can text me later.”

Lucas could only nod, because what else he could do? Watching as the German made his way to the separate direction, he sighed and walked to the interview room, cursing Héctor under his breath in every language he knew.

-

Lucas wished he could say that his relationship with Leno went better after that, but it wasn’t the case.

Sure, Leno was always kind and friendly to him. Leno smiled at him, wide and bright after a win (or at least an acceptable draw), soft and sad after a loss (or an undeserved draw). Leno hugged him more regularly now, almost after every game and even sometimes after training sessions. And Lucas had received a few invitations from Leno himself to play games at the keeper’s house (and that’s how he knew that Leno was simply hopeless at games other than FIFA). But Lucas was doubtful that Leno’s attention towards him was any different than what the keeper showed to his other teammates.

Come to think of it, he didn’t even know much about Leno. The German was always a pretty private person, and he never opened up about himself that much, so Lucas knew next to nothing about Leno’s personal life, whether he had a boyfriend or girlfriend (though Lucas had read that the keeper had broken up with his girlfriend sometime prior to his transfer to Arsenal), or whether he even liked guys to begin with!

Again and again, Lucas tried to gather some courage to ask Leno out for lunch or coffee, but every time he had the chance, those words always died down in his throat before he could voice it. And certainly Leno had never done so himself, simply out of shyness or because he had no special feelings whatsoever towards Lucas, the midfielder didn’t know.

The season slowly rolled by before he realized it. Arsenal finished fifth in the Premier League table. They managed to reach the final of Europa League, but had to be satisfied with silver medals. Then a short summer break, and Lucas went back home to Uruguay and didn’t see Leno for awhile. And then the pre-season training and matches started, and Lucas couldn’t help feeling giddy as he noticed the familiar tall figure with blonde hair on the other side of the pitch.

One day, they flew to Spain for a pre-season match, the Joan Gamper Trophy against Barcelona to be precise. Lucas knew Arsenal’s history with Barcelona had never been that good, as the meetings between those two clubs during past Champions League matches almost always ended with Arsenal’s defeat, not to mention that Barcelona had _Lionel fucking Messi_ in their squad, but it had been some time since they met each other, and Lucas hoped that despite of this game not being an official match, they could prove their worth to Barcelona and win this.

Taking a glance at Héctor who sat beside him to make sure that the Spaniard was asleep and therefore didn’t know what he’s doing, Lucas slowly looked around the plane. Leno sat a few rows behind him, and Lucas craned his neck a bit in order to see what the keeper’s doing.

Leno was talking with Musti, and though their voices weren’t that loud, Lucas noticed that they’re speaking in German. Lucas knew better than to eavesdrop on them (not that he understood German anyway, but Héctor had taught him a translation spell), but judging from Leno’s animated hand gestures and the bright smile on his face, the keeper was _happy_.

That made Lucas frown. Sure, this was only a pre-season match and the result wouldn’t affect their upcoming official games in any way, but it’s still _Barcelona_ , and they still had to fight to death in order to defeat the Catalan club. While it’s good to be confident and all, Lucas knew that Leno wasn’t usually like that before a game, and as far as he could remember, the keeper had never done something to shock Barcelona either. Probably Leno’s simply excited of that prospect of travelling to Spain, since the city of Barcelona itself was a tourist attraction?? It might be, but Lucas still couldn’t shake the thought that it didn’t sit right, somehow.

Lucas shook his head. _It’s not the right time to think about that_ , he told himself. _Just focus on the game. Besides, what’s the point of thinking about Leno if you can’t even find the courage to ask him out?_

With some difficulties, Lucas tore his gaze away from Leno and closed his eyes, but even when he finally managed to slip into unconsciousness, blonde hair and bright blue eyes kept haunting his dreams.

-

They didn’t win. They did quite well in the first half with Auba scoring for them, but went slightly lousy in the second half, Ainsley making an own goal and then Suárez slotting a last minute goal to ensure Barcelona’s win. And despite of this only being a friendly match, Lucas knew it spoke badly about them, and they would need to fix it before Premier League started.

Sighing, Lucas glanced around the field. Leno was standing not too far from him, sharing a hug with Barcelona’s keeper – what’s his name again? Ter Stegen? Yeah, that. Lucas frowned a bit at that sight, but then remembered that both of them were German internationals, and probably hadn’t met each other since the last international break, and therefore must’ve missed each other, though Lucas hadn’t known they’re actually _that_ close. Well, close or not, being in the same national team and playing in the same position should make you some kind of friends, no? Shrugging philosophically, Lucas just headed to the away dressing room to shower and change his clothes.

Emery gave them a little talk in the dressing room, and then they gathered back in the team bus. Leno didn’t join them. He told the coach that he’s “going to see a friend who happened to be around there” and Lucas, though slightly miffed because he probably wouldn’t be able to meet Leno until dinner at least, understood that the keeper probably would need some kind of relief after that match and was glad that Leno had someone to console him.

It wasn’t until Lucas had taken a seat in the bus and was about to play some music that he realized that his earphones were missing from his bag. Cursing internally, he tried to remember where he had put it earlier and realized that he must’ve left it in the dressing room. Rising on his feet, Lucas swiftly made his way to the bus door.

“Where are you going, Luquitas??” Héctor called after him.

“I left my earphone,” Lucas shouted back. “I’m just going to get them back. I won’t take long.”

He quickly entered the stadium again and walked to the away dressing room. Thankfully, the missing earphone was indeed there, and Lucas quickly stuffed them inside his pocket. But as he walked out of it and was about to return to the bus, he suddenly heard a familiar voice floated out of the home dressing room.

The voice was slightly higher and perhaps more breathless than usual, but Lucas immediately recognized it as Leno’s voice, and that caused frown lines to appear on the midfielder’s forehead. Didn’t Leno say he’s going to meet a friend? And what the _heck_ was he doing in Barcelona’s dressing room anyway??

Carefully, Lucas approached the dressing room, trying his best not to make any sound lest he would be heard. Placing his ear to the door, he focused to hear the voices clearer, and yes, indeed, it was Leno, there’s no mistaking it. He’s talking rapidly in German to someone else, and for some reasons Lucas didn’t think he was on the phone.

Closing his eyes, Lucas channelled his magic and murmured two spells under his breath, one to amplify their voices in his ears and another to enable him to understand their words. He knew that it actually wasn’t right to do so, that what he’s currently doing could be counted as an act of eavesdropping, and he normally wouldn’t do so either, but right now his curiosity about Leno had completely overpowered his common sense.

He listened again, hard, and Leno’s voice was heard again, only now Lucas could grasp the meaning of his words.

“–fuck you, asshole,” Leno was saying, and Lucas could hear the smallest bit of venom in his voice, though it didn’t sound like he actually meant it either.

“You keep saying that but you haven’t actually done it,” said another voice, slightly deeper but with an unmistakable tone of amusement in it.

There was a one-nth pause before Leno responded with a growl. “Don’t make me angry right now, the match alone has made me suffer enough, do you really want to add into it, Marc-André ter Stegen??”

Lucas blinked. Marc-André ter Stegen? Wasn’t it the Barcelona keeper whom Leno had hugged on the pitch earlier?? And while they might be friends and all, why would Leno come into Barcelona dressing room with him??

“Not going to say sorry because we beat your team up,” was the response from the other keeper.

An even longer pause, and then Leno said with a sigh, “I know. But I still hate you so much.”

“The feeling’s mutual,” ter Stegen answered, voice slightly muffled as if his face’s buried into something.

Nothing was spoken between the two keepers for awhile, though Lucas had a pretty good guess on what they were actually doing there. Then he heard Leno’s voice again, slightly lower, quieter than before, “Well, what’s done is done, but since I’m here right now, you’d better shove that win up your ass and bite me.”

Lucas was sure he could hear ter Stegen whispering under his breath in Spanish, “I was hoping for something else up my ass, actually”, but then a sucking sound filled Lucas’ hearing, and the Uruguayan quickly tore himself away from the door as if his ears were burned.

He couldn’t quite comprehend how exactly he managed to get away from the scene, but the next thing he knew, he’s already back on the team bus, breathing heavily, the voices of Leno and ter Stegen and the sucking sounds still ringing in his ears.

Thankfully, his teammates were all too busy talking among themselves to take notice on Lucas as the midfielder quietly returned to his seat on the back of the bus. Putting on his earphones and plugging on some music, Lucas closed his eyes and tried to wrap his mind around what he just heard earlier.

So Leno _did_ like guys. And he actually had a boyfriend. And his boyfriend’s no one else but Marc-André ter Stegen, Barcelona’s keeper and their opposition today. And he managed to keep it a secret this whole time, from the media and from his own teammates.

And dammit, Lucas could practically hear the sound of his heart breaking.

Sure, he had never told Leno about his feelings before. And he knew that Leno and ter Stegen might’ve started dating before Leno transferred to Arsenal, so it’s not like Lucas could’ve changed anything even if he’d confessed his love towards the keeper. But it didn’t make things less painful.

Shutting his eyes tighter, Lucas sunk himself even more into his seat, trying his best not to break down in front of his teammates. He didn’t know anything about Leno’s relationship with ter Stegen, but judging from the keeper’s excitement during their plane ride earlier, and the fact that the two of them couldn’t even meet on daily basis, it must’ve been a happy and healthy relationship. And who was Lucas to deny Leno his happiness?

And Lucas was determined that after this, things wouldn’t change between him and Leno.

He would keep accepting hugs from the keeper after their matches together. He would still come to Leno’s house to play games sometime with their fellow teammates. He would probably ask Leno out someday for lunch or coffee in order to know the keeper better, but as friends and teammates only. And he would do all of those with a smile on his face.

And no one, _no one_ should know about his feelings.

Especially Leno.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some background information:
> 
>   * In case any of you don’t remember/haven’t read my other Arsenal fic [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24072910), Lucas and Héctor are both wizards in this universe.
>   * South American magic is far more open and less subtle than British magic, hence why Lucas isn’t really above using magic to make things easier in his daily life (though he’s far more reserved now that he plays for Arsenal).
>   * Lucas was able to determine what Bernd was because his power-detecting ability is better than Héctor's.
>   * During the scene in which Héctor called Lucas for post-match interview, Bernd understood what Héctor was saying (despite of him speaking in Spanish), because, well, I imagine someone who happened to play in Spain had taught him some words XD
>   * I haven’t mentioned this before but Musti (Shkodran Mustafi)’s power is omnilingualism, which means he’s capable of speaking/understanding any language in the whole world, but in order to learn new language, he has to do a tongue-to-tongue contact with the person whose language he wishes to gain knowledge of – which means, he has to kiss them. That explains why Lucas thought of Musti to help him with translation. There’s also a bit of background story on how Musti learns Uruguayan Spanish – I might write it on separate chapter in the future.
>   * Apparently, Héctor calls Lucas “Luquitas”, according to [this video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sDz0RCH4Mio). And yes, he can do Uruguayan accent too.
>   * I don’t know whether Lucas calls Bernd with his first or last name, but Laca and Auba called him “Leno” [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q183_gea6mA), so I just made Lucas referring to him as “Leno” for the whole story.
>   * [Arsenal 4-2 Tottenham Hotspur](https://www.skysports.com/football/arsenal-vs-tottenham/report/390887). Lucas scored his first goal for Arsenal here.
>   * Arsenal played a pre-season match against Barcelona for Joan Gamper Trophy, in which [Arsenal lost 2-1](https://www.fcbarcelona.com/en/matches/49434/fc-barcelona-arsenal-joan-gamper-trophy-2019-2020), and Bernd shared a [hug](https://66.media.tumblr.com/b6d4ea3310b251e8e6d3da2ffc1e1c39/tumblr_pvrfh6AxrU1qh60cio1_500.jpg) with Marc after that game (MY STENO FEELS T_T).
> 

> 
> I plan to add some more stories in here, so if any of you has requests about Arsenal players (past and present) you want to see in this series and their powers, feel free to shoot it to me!
> 
> Hope you enjoy this story, kudos, comments and constructive criticisms are appreciated!


	2. Running to Neverland (onesided!Mikel Arteta/Robin van Persie)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A conversation between Mikel Arteta and Robin van Persie before the latter joined Manchester United.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set during transfer window on summer 2012, between 11/12 and 12/13 season, when our beloved coach was still an active player. Yes, I know it's so damn ancient, and probably some of you haven't been there to witness the drama, but I hope you'll still enjoy it.
> 
> This ended up shorter than I'd planned, maybe, since when I wrote this piece, all the angsty memories during that period came flooding back to me, and I literally had to keep myself from punching someone. Or crying. Or both.
> 
> Featuring: Mikel Arteta, Robin van Persie, mentions of Cesc Fàbregas, Santi Cazorla, Per Mertesacker, and Arsène Wenger.

“You’re leaving.”

Robin didn’t bother looking around to identify the source of the familiar voice with a twinge of Spanish accent behind him. Only Mikel who would do something like waiting for him in the dressing room after everyone else had left. And he didn’t feel the need to deny that statement either, or to defend himself for that decision, not after everything had been signed and finalized, and he was just waiting for the news to spread and then he could just _go_ , leaving his past behind him. So he didn’t find it hard to answer, as casually as if Mikel just offered him a glass of wine, “I am, yes.”

“Why?”

Part of Robin wanted to roll his eyes at that question, especially because he knew Mikel wasn’t stupid either, and even the most oblivious person in the world could see whatever the _heck_ had gone wrong in their club. But he also understood that Mikel needed to hear it from him, and though Robin didn’t think he actually owed the Spaniard any explanation whatsoever, he still turned around to look at his (soon-to-be former) teammate.

“The club put too much pressure on me, Mikel,” he said, looking straight to the dark-haired midfielder. “I’ve given everything I could. I’ve drained myself physically and mentally for the team. Yet I don’t think they’ve given me enough recognition for everything I’ve done for them. I just…I don’t think I can keep doing this for the rest of my life, or my active career at least. I have to go, for the sake of my own health and sanity.”

There was a certain tremble in Mikel’s hand and voice now. “But back then you slammed Cesc for leaving because of the exact same reason. And you two had a fight.”

Robin didn’t ask how Mikel came to know about that, despite of the midfielder only transferring to Arsenal after Cesc made his move to Barcelona. He figured that everyone in Arsenal and their grandmothers (well, the superpowered ones at the very least) had known about his infamous fight with Cesc, which ended up with them having an actual wizard’s duel until Per and even Arsène himself had had to interfere to stop them before it reached the Council and the whole world. Back then, he’d been angry at Cesc, assuming that the younger had abandoned him and their club, but now he thought he understood how Cesc must’ve felt.

He didn’t bother explaining all that to Mikel. The Spaniard was a smart man, and Robin knew he just needed time to fully comprehend the _actual_ extent of Arsenal’s problems. And by the time it happened, Robin thought, he wouldn’t try to persuade Mikel to abandon the ship. Whether the Spaniard’s going to stay or not in the future, it would be completely on his own decision. Robin didn’t need to have it in his conscience, not that he still had much left after deciding to leave himself anyway.

So he only stared at Mikel again and asked calmly, “Will you do the same thing to me, then? Fighting me in order to try to stop me from leaving, I mean.”

Mikel was quiet for awhile. “No,” he eventually answered. “You know that I won’t.”

And Robin knew that he wouldn’t. Despite of being a wizard like Cesc, playing in the same position as Cesc, and even having trained at La Masia like Cesc back then, in general Mikel was calmer and more mature compared to his fellow countryman, and he wouldn’t even use his magic unless absolutely necessary. Fighting a teammate, even one who had practically betrayed the whole team to join one of their biggest rivals, probably would be something unthinkable for him.

“Listen, Mikel,” Robin said, placing his hand on Mikel’s shoulder, “I’m sorry for everything that has happened. I wish I could do better… I really did. But sometimes things just don’t go the way we want them to be.” He took a deep breath. “And I’m sorry for…abandoning all of you like this. But I’m sure you guys will be fine. After all, there are still you and Per in the squad, and Santi Cazorla’s going to join as well. I’m sure the curse-countering thing will be easy enough with the three of you.”

Again, Mikel didn’t respond for a long time, but when he finally did, his voice was now barely more than a whisper. “I’m not talking about the curse-countering thing.”

“Then what?” Robin asked again, though he had a feeling he knew what Mikel was going to say next.

This time, Mikel raised his eyes to meet Robin’s, and the Dutch felt the intense gaze of those dark orbs burning right through him as Mikel spoke out, pain clear in his every syllable, “I just don’t want to lose a _friend_ who's more precious to me than anyone else.”

Robin blinked in surprise, but before he could say anything else, Mikel had disappeared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some background information:
> 
>   * In case I haven’t made it clear, yes, Cesc Fàbregas, Robin van Persie, Mikel Arteta, and Santi Cazorla are all wizards in this universe. Per Mertesacker is an elf, and therefore can do magic as well, though his magic tends to be more of a combative type.
>   * Wizards are allowed to use magic in their everyday job only to counter any magical interference that might complicate it somehow. I’ve mentioned it in my other story [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24072910).
>   * And yes, Mikel had a crush on Robin, who had a crush on Cesc. None of them ended up dating each other though.
>   * La Masia, aside from being Barcelona’s football academy, also doubles as a training camp for superpowered future footballers, I guess. Lol.
>   * To any of you who wasn’t there during all the drama, Cesc became Arsenal captain on 2008 until his transfer to Barcelona on August 2011. His reason to leave can be read [here](https://www.skysports.com/football/news/11670/11963142/why-cesc-fabregas-left-arsenal-for-barcelona-in-2011). Mikel Arteta was brought from Everton to fill his position. Robin succeeded Cesc as captain, but in my opinion, during the 2011-12 season Arsenal basically was a one-man team. He left for Manchester United at the end of the season, citing that he felt underappreciated by the club. I personally didn’t blame him for that, but I’m still mad he chose United of all teams, even until now.
> 

> 
> As usual, hope you like it, and if you have requests regarding past/present Arsenal players to be included in this series, let me know!
> 
> Kudos, comments and constructive criticisms are appreciated!


	3. A peculiar introduction (Lucas Torreira & Shkodran Mustafi)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucas Torreira learns how Shkodran Mustafi _utilizes_ his power, in a rather uneasy way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A companion piece for the first chapter, but you don't really need to read it first in order to understand this one.
> 
> Basically, it's just Shkodran Mustafi being an idiot, tbh. Lol.
> 
> Featuring: wizard!Lucas and omnilingualist!Musti.

Lucas blinks. And blinks. And then blinks some more. Because Shkodran Mustafi is kissing him. And not only a simple, chaste, peck-on-the-lip thing. No, it’s a true, proper, full-blown type of kiss, and _fuck_ , is that Musti’s tongue inside his mouth???

Sure, Lucas’ been all too aware that when he made a transfer to Arsenal, he’s going to meet a wholly new battalion of teammates from different countries and cultures, probably even more diverse than the ones he had at Sampdoria. But Lucas is 99,9% sure that no culture whatsoever in the world who teaches people to greet others with a _real_ kiss.

Before Lucas can even wrap his mind to the fact that a teammate, a new teammate whom he has barely spoken even two words to is currently kissing him, let alone respond to it, Musti breaks the kiss. Lucas watches him, his jaw on the floor as the German defender closes his eyes for awhile and shakes his head like a wet dog trying to dry its fur.

“Thank you, that was great,” Musti says, grinning widely at Lucas as if it’s all just a big joke for him. And before Lucas can say anything, the older man already skips away and approaches Mesut, whispering something in his ears that causes the midfielder to roll his eyes.

It takes Lucas a few hours to realize that Musti was speaking in Uruguayan Spanish.

-

Lucas avoids Musti for a few days after that. He still meets the German during trainings, sure, but he makes sure to stay with Arsenal’s Spanish-speaking faction during laps or training drills, and thankfully his seat in the dressing room isn’t that close to Musti’s, so he doesn’t need to speak to the German unless absolutely necessary. And to Lucas’ gratefulness, none of his teammates seem to realize it, else he would have to endure some talks with Laurent regarding professionalism and teamwork and so forth. He hasn’t witnessed it yet, but from the way Héctor described it, it must _not_ be pretty.

But eventually the inevitable happens, and one day the coach pairs Lucas and Musti to do a ball-passing drill together.

Lucas knows better than to refuse, so he grabs the ball and goes to his assigned place on the side of the ground, slightly separated from the other Arsenal players, Musti trailing behind him. For awhile the two of them only pass the ball back and forth, no words spoken between them.

After a few seconds of a rather uncomfortable silence, finally Musti lets out a cough and says rather awkwardly, “So…I guess I need to apologize to you.”

Lucas hitches up an eyebrow. Firstly, he’s been wondering when Musti would start talking since he knows the German usually can never keep his mouth shut at first place, and him being silent is so uncharacteristic of him. And secondly, Musti once again is speaking in flawless Spanish, with perfect Uruguayan accent.

“What for?” Lucas asks, aiming the ball slightly to Musti’s right.

Sticking out a boot, Musti manages to reach the ball and juggles it on his knee. “Well, I’ve done you wrong, right?” the German defender says, and for the first time Lucas notices that Musti actually looks sheepish. “I kissed you when we first met, and then…since then you just straight-up avoided me. I asked Mesut about it and he scolded me and said that I probably have given you…hopes, or made you think that I actually like you or something but…”

“But you actually don’t like me that way, and only kissed me because you’ve wanted to learn my language and my accent, no?”

The ball Musti’s about to kick towards Lucas falls to the ground and rolls away, but the centre-back doesn’t even seem to realize that as he stares at Lucas, eyes and mouth wide open. “How do you know??” he asks wildly, horror written all over his face as if he’s just seen a ghost.

Lucas shrugs and after a quick glance around to make sure no one’s looking at them, he lifts a hand and whispers something, and the ball rolls back to his feet by itself. “I’m one of you,” he explains, smirking at Musti’s astonished expression. “Wizard, actually.”

The tension on Musti’s face and shoulder seems to lessen significantly at Lucas’ confession, and he heaves a deep breath of relief. “I see,” he says, and his ever-present smile starts to tug again at the corners of his mouth. “I should’ve known. You kinda gives off the same vibe as Manu sometimes, you know.”

Lucas only nods and passes the ball again towards Musti. He doesn’t ask who “Manu” is, though he does have his suspicions.

“But if you’re a wizard and therefore know about me and my power,” Musti starts again while kicking the ball towards Lucas (though it bounces hard on the ground and then shoots to the air), “then why did you avoid me??”

Lucas rolls his eyes and jumps to reach the ball. “Isn’t it obvious??” he asks dubiously, dropping the ball back to his feet. “I don’t appreciate being kissed like that, even if I know the reason behind it! I know you had no idea that I’m a wizard previously, but come on, you can just ask my permission or something. Also, do you do that to every new guy joining the team? Kissing them to learn their language?”

“Yeah, I’m really really sorry about that,” Musti apologizes, again with a sheepish smile. “And to answer your question…yes, if I haven’t known it of course. But usually I wait until they’re drunk or something, so they won’t remember me doing so.”

“Then why didn’t you?"

“Are you even old enough to drink?”

“…I’m 22.”

“…Wait, what, really??”

“I have tattoos, aren’t they proof enough that I’m of legal age already??”

“…I’m sorry, I really thought you’re not 20 yet, especially because of your…well…”

“Say it and I won’t hesitate to show you what I’m _actually_ capable of.”

“……I’m shutting up now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I've mentioned before, Musti's superpower is [omnilingualism](https://learnpowers.com/omnilingualism-the-ability-to-learn-and-speak-any-language-instantly/), and in order to learn a new language, he has to kiss the person whose language he wishes to gain knowledge of.
> 
> And yes, some of you may realize that I've posted this chapter before, but when I reread it, I realized it doesn't make any sense, therefore I decided to delete and edit a big part of it. I'm sorry about that!
> 
> Hope you still enjoy this chapter though. Kudos, comments and constructive criticisms are appreciated!


	4. The dark side of defeat (Bernd Leno, Héctor Bellerín, Pierre-Emerick Aubameyang and Mikel Arteta)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the Manchester City vs Arsenal game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A purely self-indulgent, slightly Leno-biased piece that I wrote in a fit of anger after Arsenal's game against Manchester City. Goodness, how I wish I could just go to England right now and hug them all, but especially Bernd Leno. And probably Mikel Arteta too.
> 
> Featuring: light elemental!Bernd, wizard!Héctor, shifter!Auba, and wizard!Mikel Arteta.
> 
> Warning: English is not my first language.

Bernd is bitter.

It's an important game for them, the first game after they're released from the lockdown to be precise, and he'd wanted it to be special, he'd wished for them to win, and goodness knows how much effort he'd put to make it happen, but of course, City had to go and slammed three goals into his net, leaving them all high and dry.

Alright, he doesn't mean to be arrogant but he knows that he's not going to be criticized by the pundits, they're going to praise him for saving Arsenal's face and keeping the score somewhat respectable and all, but what's the difference between 3-0 and 6-0, exactly?? They still couldn't manage to gain three points no matter what.

And it _hurts_. So fucking hurts.

The tips of his fingers start to twitch as he feels something like electrical current flowing through his hands, but he quickly shakes it away. Bernd usually has no problem curbing his light-manipulating ability even without restriction bracelet on, but he’s no saint either, and during his lowest moments, the perfect control over his power that he's so carefully built all these years always threatens to break down.

And this time, there's nothing more he wishes he could've done than burning Kevin de Bruyne's eyes off.

-

Héctor is tired.

He'd expected the match to be hard – they're playing Manchester City after all, and not only they have significantly better squad than Arsenal, the magic lining their stadium is also the strangest and most unfamiliar one Héctor has ever encountered, despite of Mikel having given him some tips to deal with it. He suspects that their Abu Dhabi owner has brought along some Middle East magic to the club. To make matters worse, David Silva is also a wizard – and inarguably a more powerful one than him – and Héctor had been certain that the City captain would do everything in his power to make sure the magic in the field kept working for City's favor.

Still, Héctor tried. He planted some of his protection spells inside each of his teammates and then kept an eye for any magical interferences that might happen during the match. But he realized all his efforts just went down the drain when Granit got injured in the 8th minute, followed by Pablo not long afterwards. Then David Luiz got red-carded for pulling Riyad Mahrez's shirt, and Héctor swore he could see one of the curse lines on the field glowed under David's feet before the Brazilian defender did so, probably one of the persuasion spells gone wrong or a bad luck hex, he didn't know. 

It doesn't matter in the end anyway. For it all happened so fast he didn't even have the chance to counter the curse. And again, he could only watch as his team crumbles down, with only Bernd's performance in goal providing them with some silver lining. (Thankfully, that is one field he so rarely needs to interfere on.)

And as he slumps on his seat in exhaustion, he wishes he could've done something more to wipe Silva's smug smirk off his face.

-

Auba is angry.

He's the captain of Arsenal, and despite of people saying that he's only there as a figurehead, not the actual captain, he’s still the one who has to wear the armband during matches, and therefore feeling that he has to fulfill his captain’s duties no matter what. Moreover, he's also Arsenal's star striker and the one they rely on to score goals, but today they couldn't even make a chance to create goals, let alone bag one.

Auba’s not the type of person who would let pressure gets to him easily, but he knows that this loss would be partially blamed on him as well. He could claim that Arsenal's midfielders didn't provide him enough with the balls, he could say that there's nothing he could do with City's defenders guarding him to death – but in the end, the fact remains that he didn't score, and they have to fly home with another loss in their tally.

He punches the wall beside him in a fit of rage and something that feels like madness immediately burns inside him, roaring inside his mind, urging him to simply _let go_. He knows it's the other half of him, his animal half, who always seems to appear in the most inconvenient circumstances. He wonders why it remained silent earlier, though he also knows he's not exactly allowed to borrow its power during games either.

But there are times in which Auba feels like he couldn't really care less about it, and this is just one of them.

And as he hears the City players celebrating their win inside their dressing room, he wishes he could just transform right there and teach them never to tickle a sleeping black panther.

-

Mikel feels numb.

This is the first game after he contracted Covid-19 and his players had to go on lockdown, and though they're facing City, their good run of form before the stoppage of the league and his own knowledge about that club – he had even told Héctor about City's special kind of magic – have convinced him that they might stand a chance. And he might also have wanted to prove himself a bit, to show to the world that he's not under Pep's shadow anymore.

How naïve he had been.

When Granit went down, followed by Pablo, he' started to doubt that his tactics were going to work as planned, but as soon as David was sent away he knew they're doomed. He has “spoken” to David afterwards, and the Brazilian has accepted his mistake real gallantly, but that doesn't change the fact that they've lost, David is banned for three games afterwards and Mikel is left to piece up his squad amidst all the injury crisis.

Silently, Mikel enters the dressing room and the quiet chatter there immediately dies down as everyone turns around to look at their gaffer. The coach looks around, taking in every single expression on their faces. Bernd is looking downside, refusing to look at anybody as he nurses some fresh bruises and scratches on his own arms and hands, and Mikel reminds himself to thank his star keeper for all his efforts today despite conceding three goals. Héctor is leaning on his seat with his eyes closed, looking positively drained after spending almost every ounce of his magic, Mikel guesses. Auba, still looking like he's about to punch the living daylights out of anyone who crosses his path, is being patted on his back by Laca, and they look so cute together that Mikel would've smiled if not for the situation. The others are there too, sporting various expressions – anger, sadness, frustration, even emptiness – but if there's one similarity inside all those faces, it's that they all look _lost_.

Mikel takes a deep breath. He knows that a part of him only wants to get back home and buries himself inside his pillow and simply forgets about the match, but he can't do that. He's the coach, and these guys are his team. If he can't talk to them to raise their spirits and prepare them for the next game, then no one else can. And the team needs him, no matter what.

So he gives the best smile he can muster in this situation and says, “Hello, everyone. Now, about the game…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like this story.
> 
> Kudos, comments, and constructive criticisms are appreciated.


	5. Into your bloody trap (Gabriel Martinelli/Bukayo Saka)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bukayo Saka figured out about Gabriel Martinelli's ability.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written during my trip to work this morning in a stroke of inspiration, because I love Gabriel Martinelli and I'm so sad to hear about his injury :( hope he recovers fast and won't be out for too long!
> 
> On a brighter note, Leno's only going to be out for 4-6 weeks, so all's well.
> 
> Featuring: Gabriel Martinelli, Bukayo Saka, mentions of Lucas Torreira and Mikel Arteta.

When Bukayo first saw the cuts on Gabi's arm, he'd been fearing the worst.

He knew that the slightly older boy, having come from Brazil, might've faced some problems settling down in London – the language, the weather, the football itself – and Bukayo had been more than ready to drag Gabi to Mikel's office and tell the boss that the young Brazilian might need some professional help if it turned out that he'd been cutting himself out of depression.

He certainly didn't expect Gabi to possess some kind of superpower there.

“So, you're a superhero or something?” Bukayo asked after the initial shock had passed as he eyed the floating, gigantic ball that Gabi had created from his own blood.

Gabi only shrugged and raised his arm, letting the ball fly back towards him. “No,” he said as he absorbed the blood back into the cut on his palm. “I have this power. I do not kill bad guys.”

The sight of Gabi drawing the blood into his body was admittedly fascinating, yet kinda nauseating at the same time. Bukayo swallowed and looked away. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

Gabi cracked a small smile. “It's okay. You, uhm. You react well. Than other people.”

Gabi's English was still rusty at best, but Bukayo understood what he meant. Looking back at the young forward, he was thankful not to see any sign of blood anywhere. However, he was surprised to see that the cut on Gabi's hand was still open, not healing immediately as he'd expected.

Quickly Bukayo grabbed the bottle of alcohol and a handful of cotton swabs next to him and started to clean Gabi's palm. “This always happens whenever you do that??” he asked as he dabbed at the wound.

Gabi nodded. “Yes. I cannot… I do not heal fast.”

“Then how come I've never noticed it all this time??”

“Lucas helps. Coach too.”

Bukayo blinked. “Lucas?? Lucas Torreira?? And Mikel? They know about this??”

Gabi nodded again but didn't explore further, and Bukayo didn't press him either. Still, this revelation had him viewed his own club in a new light. _If they know about Gabi_ , he thought, _then they must've possessed some kind of power themselves, or at least familiar with these kinds of stuffs? And maybe Gabi's not the only one either in this team?_

Bukayo didn't voice those thoughts to Gabi though. Instead he asked, “Is it okay if you tell me about this? Isn't it supposed to be a secret?”

“I trust you.”

Those three words, simple as they might seem, seemed to break the ice between them, and before Bukayo himself knew what he's doing, his arms were already thrown around Gabi. And Gabi, though no less surprised, hugged him back, and they stayed that way for a good few minutes.

They broke apart after awhile, but Bukayo silently decided to pay better attention towards his other teammates just in case they showed signs of superpowers as well. While he wasn't a sneak, and had no specific intention whatsoever towards that information, if he even managed to gain one of course, it would certainly make his days more interesting. With that in mind, he waved Gabi to return to the training ground first while he went to relieve himself.

…and found Bernd Leno alone in the toilet, flicking a ball of white light towards the dimming bulb which immediately glowed back in full power.

Oh well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some background information:
> 
>   * Gabi's power is hemokinesis, which means, well, he can manipulate the blood in his body into whatever he wants. He can only do that to his own blood, though, and he has to draw out some blood first to do so. I know, it's a bit creepy, but for some reasons...I like to imagine him having such power? *hides in the corner*
>   * Lucas has been helping with healing Gabi's wounds whenever he needs it, but since Lucas is injured right now, he hasn't been able to do that, thus leading to Bukayo figuring out about Gabi.
> 

> 
> Hope you like this story.
> 
> Kudos, comments, and constructive criticisms are appreciated.


	6. Not as easy as magic (Héctor Bellerín & Lucas Torreira)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tale behind Lucas Torreira's Instagram story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I saw [Lucas Torreira's Instagram story](https://www.instagram.com/p/CBv6_AJA29G/?igshid=15sovnzjybnw7) and I began wondering, “He's been living in England for two years, why the heck he just starts learning English now?” which brought me to this. And of course, I had to connect it with my supernatural AU somehow.
> 
> And again, typed during my trip back home from work after a night shift, so I apologize for any mistakes.
> 
> Featuring: wizard!Lucas and wizard!Héctor.

“Look, Luquitas, this cannot go on much longer.”

Lucas scowls at the book Héctor just shoves in front of his face, an English textbook. “You can't exactly tell me what to do, despite of you being vice-captain and all.”

Héctor crosses his arms in front of his chest. “Actually, I can. The boss has sensed excessive amount of magic pouring out of you at all times, and therefore has asked me to warn you to curb it a little before it reaches the Council.”

“I'm not doing anything wrong,” Lucas replies defensively. “I don't use my magic to make myself play better, or to accelerate the healing of my injury, they have no reason to prosecute me.”

“Yes, but you live in _England_ , Luquitas, speaking English is kind of a requirement here,” Héctor sighs, exasperation clear in his tone. “And you can't keep using that translation spell again and again whenever someone talks to you. Look at Gabi, he's only been here for less than a year but he's able to hold short convos with the other youngsters already. And you've been here for almost two years.”

The scowl on Lucas' face grows deeper as he takes the textbook from Héctor's hand and opens it. “I don't like studying,” he complains. “And don't compare me to Gabi. He's a teenager. It's harder to learn things, at our age.”

Héctor raises an eyebrow. “Oh, really??”

Before Lucas can even ask _what do you mean by that_ , suddenly his own floor breaks open and Lucas jumps on his seat. And from the crack, a few thick books and old, crumpled papers and parchments fly out before falling into a haphazard mess on the table, almost knocking it over.

Picking one of them, Héctor stares at the cover (soberly titled _Hechizos y Pociones_ ) before looking back at Lucas. “It's harder to learn things at our age, huh.”

“It's different,” Lucas tries (rather weakly) to argue. “Magic is actually _useful_.”

“And learning English isn't?”

To that Lucas has no reply.

Héctor glares at the Uruguayan for awhile before heaving a deep breath. “Fine,” he says. “Give those to me.”

And before Lucas can say anything, the Spaniard snatches the English textbook and Lucas' cellphone from the table and storms towards the back garden.

“Whoa, wait!” Lucas exclaims, eyes wide. “What are you doing??”

But Héctor doesn't say anything, doesn't even look at Lucas as he keeps striding outside. And the midfielder curses himself and his injured ankle as he stumbles to follow his vice-captain.

At the garden, Lucas sees Héctor snapping a photo with his cellphone and then typing something on it before tossing the phone back towards Lucas. “I've put something on your Instagram story,” he says with a slight triumphant glint in his eyes. “Hopefully our fans will be able to encourage you to learn English better and faster.”

Lucas' eyes widen again as he quickly checks his own Instagram to see what Héctor has posted there. Indeed, there's a photo of a hand holding his textbook, with a caption “Nunca es tarde 📖 | Español ➡️ Ingles” there, completed with a row of “flexed biceps” emoji.

“Well, now, there's no excuses anymore, right?” Héctor smiles brightly. “The fans will be excited to see you learning English, they will think that you've committed yourself more to our club, and maybe even look forward to hear you speaking English in your next interview.”

“……I hate you so much.”

“I will accept that, for the sake of our club and you yourself,” the Spanish defender says drily. “Now excuse me, I need to go, and let me tell you, Luquitas, this is my last warning. If Mikel calls me again because of this, then you can explain to him yourself. I can't – and won't – shield you any longer.”

“Fine, fine, whatever. Now can you get out of my house??”

Héctor smirks and with a little wave, vanishes before Lucas' eyes.

“At least fix my floor first, you twat!” Lucas yells, but Héctor's already gone.

Lucas sighs and rubs his temples. Walking back inside, he returns all his spellbooks into their hiding place and repairs his floor with a wave of his hand. Then he slumps back on his sofa and begins peering through the English textbook.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea whether Lucas Torreira is as stubborn as I depicted in this story, so if he isn't, I apologize for making him a bit OOC. I actually had fun imagining him as one stubborn little shit, haha (pun fully intended).
> 
> And I also don't know whether Gabriel Martinelli's English is actually better than Lucas', but...creative freedom??
> 
> Hope you like this story.
> 
> Kudos, comments and constructive criticisms are appreciated.


	7. War and Peace (Mesut Özil/Arsenal)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mesut might not be allowed to play, but that doesn't mean he couldn't help his team in his own way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the lovely [aprilblue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aprilblue/pseuds/aprilblue) who requested me to write about Mesut and his interaction with Arsenal squad. I don't know whether this is what you meant, and this piece is (again) mostly written during my trip to and from work, but I wish I've done your request some justice, dear :)
> 
> And also, the idea of this story stems from the fact that Mikel Arteta didn't play Mesut in the games against Brighton and Southampton. While he said it's because of some "tactical reasons", I couldn't help wondering whether there's something else behind it after all. But I'm certain that Mesut still loves Arsenal and is ready to dedicate everything for his team, thus this story was born!
> 
> Featuring: Mesut Özil, other Arsenal players, minor Samisut at the start.
> 
> Warning: A bit of angsty water ahead.

_“Mes, take it."_

_“A ring?? Are you proposing to me, Sami?”_

_“Haha, no. Not yet, at least. That ring contains a bit of my power, so well, if you really need it someday…”_

_“......Sami, you know I don’t like using my power that much, especially…”_

_“I know, I know. But still…keep it, yeah? As I’ve said, just in case. Even if you end up not using it, ever, you can think of it as a gift from me to you.”_

-

People always tell Mesut how lucky he is to be born with a power so _pure_ , that he probably doesn’t even need to learn to control it at first place, that in order to _not_ use it he only needs to refrain himself from touching the others and so forth. Back then he used to deny it, ready to tell everyone the story about how he once caused his elementary school teacher to sleep for three days from the excessive amount of calmness, but nowadays he only smiles and nods and doesn’t bother to correct them.

They don’t really need to know the true nature of his power.

Mesut, indeed, is able to give out a feeling of peace by the touch of his hand. And while he _is_ glad that his power is nothing too destructive like Poldi’s disintegration, and not as creepy as Mario (Gómez)’s shadow manipulation, there’s still _something_ lies behind the supposedly innocent ability.

Every time Mesut makes use of his power, he doesn’t simply induce serenity into his target’s mind. No, he also removes their negative emotions, be it bitterness, fury, sadness, frustration, whatever. And those removed feelings don’t simply vanish into thin air, oh no. They settle into Mesut’s mind, forcing him to deal with them himself.

Sami (and probably Manuel too, though Mesut never talks about it with the keeper) is the only one who knows about the other side of his power. Sami’s the one who found him, crying and shaking inside their shared hotel room after both of them had to calm the entire Germany squad after their loss in the semi-final of 2010 World Cup. Sami was the one he finally entrusted with the secret. And Sami’s also the one who cried alongside him upon the revelation, and apologized over and over again since the older man was the one who enhanced Mesut’s power, therefore he also indirectly contributed to Mesut’s misery (though Mesut always insists that Sami hasn't done anything wrong).

Mesut never wants to induce calmness in such a substantial scale anymore after that. He still does so sometimes whenever one of his teammates is completely down in the dumps, but he’s always careful not to overdo it, only making sure that the particular teammate will be relaxed enough to keep going on with their lives. His transfer to Arsenal even proves to work for his advantage, since he’s basically forbidden to use his power in England, that allows him to curb it even more, and he never uses the ring Sami has given him though he brings it with him almost all the time.

He didn’t use it when they got kicked out of the Champions League, again and again. He didn’t use it when they lost the Premier League title many more times than they could count. He didn’t even use it when they lost the Europa League final, though he did comfort some of his teammates after the game.

But then Project Restart comes and all hell breaks loose.

Mesut knows that their defeat to Manchester City and then losing Granit and Pablo are the signs of their impending doom, but it’s not until they have to swallow a bitter pill at Falmer Stadium that the world finally turns upside down for them.

Mesut doesn’t play, because of “tactical reasons” or whatever Mikel has told the press, but he can see the gloom looming over them as they trudge back inside their team bus. He can feel Bernd’s frustration, Matteo’s silent fury, Héctor’s weariness, Mikel’s clear disappointment, and he’s almost sure Eddie is trying to hold back tears. And he understands why. They just _lost_ , against Brighton and Hove Albion, a team currently placed 15th in the table, Bernd went down injured, and as if to rub salt on their wounds, that bastard who _dared_ to hurt Bernd also managed to steal a goal during injury time, cementing their misery.

This may be able go down simply as one of their many losses – and goodness knows how many they’ve gotten recently – but Mesut knows what makes this one harder than ever. With this defeat, they’re currently sitting at the 12th place. _The 12 th place_. The bottom half of the table, certainly not something to be proud about, and if they keep going like this, forget playing in European competition, they’ll be lucky to avoid _relegation_ , for goodness’ sake!! And now Bernd won’t be there to save them.

_You may be able to help them_ , a voice suggests in his head.

_I can’t_ , Mesut protests, despite knowing how silly it is to have a heated debate with his own conscience. _I don’t have the power for it, for starters_.

_You do. You can get rid of their negative feelings, therefore clearing their minds a bit. And maybe that will help them in the next game_.

_But if I do that I will end up suffering for days! I can’t possibly…_

_Look, are you willing to show Mikel how committed you actually are towards Arsenal, or not??_

Mesut doesn’t know what causes him to cave in finally. Probably it’s his own conscience who apparently won’t shut up until he does whatever it tells him to do. Probably it’s the level of desperation around him, so thick and heavy he could barely breathe. Or probably he _does_ wish to show Mikel how much he actually cares about Arsenal and is willing to do anything for his beloved club. Either way, he finally slips Sami’s ring onto his finger, taps on it and _concentrates_.

He feels it at once – like waves hitting the shore, or ripples that appear when you throw stones on the water. Usually it flows through his fingertips whenever he touches someone to console them, but thanks to Sami’s ring, now the waves come straight out of his head and spread all around the bus, filling the air with some kind of invisible static.

And its effect hits everyone immediately.

He can see how the frown lines slowly clears up from the forehead of a sleeping Héctor. He notices how Matteo and Laca, who seem to be having some argument in low voice at the back of the bus, finally quiet down. He can hear a few sighs coming from the youngsters’ seats – and Mesut’s sure those aren’t supposed to be angry or disappointed sighs, no, they sound relieved, almost happy, even. He’s aware that Mikel and Bernd are glancing at him from the corners of their eyes, probably knowing that Mesut’s using his power on them all, but the midfielder can’t care less about it. For now he only thinks about helping his team with everything he has, even when the coach wasn’t willing to play him.

And this time Mesut’s determined that he’s going to accept whatever plethora of emotions that might hit him, and the long hours of nausea and restlessness that would surely follow afterwards.

For Arsenal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of background information:
> 
>   * Sami (Khedira)’s ability is power-enhancing. In Mesut’s normal state, he’s only able to induce calmness to one person at a time by the touch of his hand, but with Sami’s help, he can influence many people at once.
>   * The ring Sami gave Mesut is basically the opposite of the restriction bracelet.
>   * Yes, Mesut and Sami are in love with each other, but they’re not _exactly_ dating. Guess they can be categorized as having a “no label relationship” for now.
> 

> 
> Again, thank you for [aprilblue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aprilblue/pseuds/aprilblue) who has inspired me to write this one.
> 
> Hope you all enjoy this story.
> 
> Kudos, comments, and constructive criticisms are appreciated!


	8. Not just a phase (Héctor Bellerín/Kieran Tierney)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kieran calls Héctor in the middle of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because Kieran Tierney is so precious, okay. And goodness, seeing him doing so well in matches just make me shiver, in a good way of course. Keep up the great work, KT!
> 
> Featuring: Héctor Bellerín and Kieran Tierney.

When his phone starts ringing at 01:30 in the morning, Héctor buries his face inside his pillow and suppresses a groan. He hates being woken up in the middle of the night – well actually, who does? However, he also knows that it usually means some kind of emergency which he has to address quickly. How tides have turned, he thinks as he swipes right to accept the call, back then he’s been one of the youngsters who would sometimes cause his captains some headache, and now, as one of Arsenal’s vice-captains, the youngsters keep coming to him for some advices or, more often than not, expecting him to clean up their messes. And Héctor supposes that this is just one of those moments. Without bothering to check who’s actually calling him, Héctor puts the phone in his ears.

“Hello, who is this??” he asks sleepily, while praying fervently that it isn’t Matteo or Ainsley who’s about to inform him that they have just killed one of their fellow teammates or bombed the Big Ben or something equally devastating yet ridiculous.

“Hec, it’s me.”

Those three words, spoken in a thick Scottish accent, are enough to make Héctor snap open his eyes in alarm. That particular accent could only mean one person in the squad, and Héctor knows for sure that he’s usually not one to cause trouble. Therefore, if he feels the need to call his vice-captain in the dead of the night like this, then his problems might actually be _legit_.

“KT?? What happened? Where are you??” Héctor asks in panic as he scrambles to sit on his bed.

There’s a moment of silence before Kieran speaks again, voice thinner and more feeble than before, “I need help. My power goes awry again.”

_Shit_ , Héctor thinks. “Are you at home??”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, I’ll be there. Do you mind if I barge in?”

“No. And thanks, Hec.”

“Anytime.”

Héctor disconnects the call and massages his temples, trying to figure out what to do next. Well, actually he _does_ know what to do – teleport to Kieran’s house, help the young left-back with whatever his problem is, and then return. The thing is, today they’re going to have a game, and Héctor would need his magic to be in full capacity for it. If he has to use some to assist Kieran, he needs to measure the exact amount of magic he can spend, and then make sure it’s fully replenished by the time they start the game. For a second he considers calling Lucas or Mikel just in case, but Lucas will probably get too excited for an excuse to use magic and end up doing something that Héctor has to fix in the end, and Mikel already has lots of things on his plate, Héctor doesn’t want to add to his baggage.

So, hoping that he won’t drain himself by the time it’s over, Héctor closes his eyes and chants the teleportation spell.

He immediately feels like his whole body’s sucked into a black hole, and by the time he opens his eyes again, he’s already at Kieran’s apartment. He cringes a bit as the familiar nausea starts to hit him – one of the reasons why he hates using that spell, aside from the fact that it’s extremely energy-consuming too – but there’s more important thing to address right now. Looking around the seemingly empty apartment, he calls, “Kieran??”

“I’m in the bedroom.”

The voice’s even smaller than the one he heard on the phone, and Héctor dreads the worst as he enters Kieran’s bedroom. Thankfully the Scotsman is there, sitting on his bed, seemingly okay at first glance…except for one thing.

His body is see-through. Well, not wholly, since a few parts of it seem to be almost solid, but then Héctor blinks and they fade back into their insubstantial state, flickering on and off like a dying bulb. And judging from the look on Kieran’s face, the Spaniard knows he’s not doing it on purpose.

Kieran has to look away under his older teammate’s withering glare. “Sorry,” he mumbles.

Héctor lets out a long sigh. “I feel like there’s a story behind this, so please enlighten me.”

“Nothing special, actually. I just removed my restriction wristband to train a bit, but then… I got stuck in this state.”

“...You know that this usually happens whenever you use your power too much, no??”

“In my defense, I thought I’ve gotten the hang of it.”

“To hell with that, KT! If something went wrong – well, more wrong than this at least – and you couldn’t even call me, then goodness knows what would happen…”

“…Look, Hec, while I appreciate you coming here for me and all, and I’m sure you’re telling me off like this for my sake, can you please help me first…? I can’t do anything in this state and it’s almost a miracle I managed to solidify my fingers long enough to call you.”

As much as he dislikes it, Héctor has to admit that Kieran has a point here. He can always reprove the younger defender anywhere and anytime, but this situation needs to be dealt quickly. Looking around, he asks, “Where’s your wristband anyway??”

“Inside the drawer over there.”

“And you couldn’t, I don’t know, pick it up and put it on himself?”

“I can barely touch anything, Hec, and even if I can pick it up, I won’t be able to put it on – not when my wrist’s still intangible.”

Héctor sighs again, but he stomps towards the drawer and finds the aforementioned wristband – a simple, plain, green one that he is already too familiar with. Sitting beside Kieran on the bed, he says curtly, “Give me your wrist.”

“I thought you’re going to summon it with spells or something,” Kieran remarks as he reaches out to give Héctor his wrist.

“I don’t want to spend more magic than necessary,” Héctor snaps, and immediately winces as a pained look passes through Kieran’s face for a second – he definitely doesn’t mean to hurt the young left-back. “Now be quiet and let me do my job.”

Kieran stays silent as Héctor circles a finger around his wrist and murmurs a reversal spell.

For a few seconds, nothing happens. But as Héctor starts to worry that he’s done something wrong, Kieran’s translucent hand slowly, slowly turns more substantial, and once it's solid enough, Héctor quickly slips on the restriction wristband around Kieran's wrist. The Scotsman lets out a gasp as the effect of his power dissipates and his whole body regains its tangibility, and then he reaches out and touch Héctor's hand – to make sure he really isn’t in his ghost-like form anymore, Héctor supposes.

“Thanks, Hec.” Kieran’s voice is soft, but Héctor can hear the gratefulness behind it.

“Well, you’re welcome, but don’t make this a habit next time,” Héctor grumbles. “You do know what time it is, no??”

Kieran at least has the grace to look sheepish. “Yeah, I know. I’m really sorry for that, I didn’t mean to burden you…”

Héctor waves a hand. “Don’t mention it,” he says, yawning. “It’s my job as the club wizard and vice-captain anyway. And now I have to go back, and KT, I’ll advise you to go to sleep, right now. Remember, we have a game this afternoon.”

“Will do,” Kieran smiles. “And thanks again.”

Héctor nods and pats Kieran’s head before closing his eyes and reciting his teleportation spell again. As he disappears in a flash of light, he completely misses a faint pink color that has made its way to Kieran’s face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some background information:
> 
>   * Kieran’s power is [intangibility](https://powerlisting.fandom.com/wiki/Intangibility), which allows him to phase through solid objects. I chose this power for him because I think he kinda gives off the same vibe as Kitty Pryde from X-Men. Lol.
>   * Actually he’s a bit of a late bloomer since he only manifested his power a few months before he joined Arsenal, hence his lack of control over it.
>   * The longer Kieran uses his power, the harder he’ll find it to return to his “normal” state.
>   * Kieran wears restriction wristband instead of bracelet since it’s more practical for him. And it’s green because of Celtic XD
>   * And yes, he has a teeny tiny crush on Héctor. I haven’t decided whether I should explore their relationship though. Haha.
> 

> 
> As usual, hope you enjoy this story.
> 
> Kudos, comments and constructive criticisms are appreciated!


	9. The Wolf of Colney Street (Héctor Bellerín/Dani Ceballos, onesided!Héctor Bellerín/Kieran Tierney)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kieran finds a wolf in Arsenal's dressing room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is wholly dedicated to [coffeebreakcreations](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coffeebreakcreations) who has been very very patiently listening to me rambling about Arsenal despite not being a Gooner himself. And I probably have been a bad influence for him as well in this matter XD and readers, I advise you to go check his superpower AUs as well, I promise they're a lot better than mine.
> 
> And the idea from this chapter comes from Dani's interview [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ye9WvcwlkSQ).
> 
> Featuring: Kieran Tierney, Dani Ceballos, Héctor Bellerín, Lucas Torreira, and various other Arsenal players.
> 
> Warning: mild angst and unrequited love.

Héctor has just arrived at Colney that morning and is about to make his way to the dressing room when he bumps into Kieran, the latter's face pale and eyes wide with fright.

"Whoa, what happened there, KT??" Héctor asks, quickly holding Kieran before the Scotsman could fall on the ground. "You look like you just saw a ghost there."

Kieran doesn't answer right away as he's panting so hard, but as Héctor's about to voice his worry, the young left-back finally stammers out, "There's a wolf in the dressing room."

Héctor blinks. "What??"

"I told you!" Kieran exclaims, his accent growing thicker like it always does when he's extremely agitated. "There is a wolf in the dressing room! I don't know how or who brings it to Colney, it's just _there!_ "

If it's someone else who tells Héctor that, the Spaniard might've laughed out loud and then dismissed it as either a prank or simply too much alcohol. But Kieran has never been one of the jokesters in the team, and Héctor's sure the Scotsman has never had a drop of drink his entire life. Also, apparently it's almost impossible to scare him off, as proven by Rob and Calum's failed Halloween prank last year. So, as crazy as it might sound, Héctor has to consider the possibility that Kieran's telling the truth.

"Alright," he says eventually with a sigh. "Let's just go and see this wolf then."

"Are you sure??" Kieran asks, still visibly trembling. "I mean, it's a _wolf_ , Héc. We can find someone else first...or go call the police or…"

"The other staffs are in a meeting with Mikel today, I'm sure. I heard Mikel reminding Freddie about it yesterday. And besides, I just want to make sure it's a real wolf before we call anyone."

"But if that thing kills you…"

Héctor gives Kieran a faint smile. "Trust me, I'll make sure it won't."

And under Kieran's astonished stare, Héctor creates a simple, transparent, dome-shaped shield around them and together they walk to the dressing room.

As they get closer, Héctor sharpens his hearing, trying to find a howl, a bark, anything that indicates that there really is _something_ there. But his ears catch nothing, and finally he decides to just open the door altogether.

...and finds a wolf there, with longish black fur and long gangly limbs, sitting close to Héctor and Kieran's seat. Its ears perk up as Héctor enters the room and something that sounds suspiciously like a whine jumps out of its throat, but it doesn't make any move to attack them at all, and when Héctor stares at him, the wolf only blinks back with big, warm, chocolate-brown eyes which seem all too familiar.

Héctor takes a deep breath. "Oh my goodness," he mutters in defeat as he swipes a hand and makes the shield disappear. "Dani, don't tell me that it's you."

The wolf again whines pitifully, while Kieran is confused. "Wait, what??"

"That wolf," Héctor says tiredly, figuring that there's no use hiding things from Kieran that he's seen everything anyway, besides the Scotsman is one of _them_ , too. "It's Dani."

Kieran blinks. "Dani??"

"Yes."

"As in, Dani Ceballos??"

"Yes."

"Our teammate?? Arsenal's number 8?"

Héctor gives Kieran a look. "How many people named Dani Ceballos do you know??"

"Only him," Kieran admits. "But how come...how come he's there?? And...and as a wolf too, to boot??"

"He's a werewolf," Héctor explains, making his way inside. "And apparently, he sometimes finds it hard to control his transformation when it isn't full moon."

"......What the actual fuck."

Dani-wolf stares at Kieran warily, but Héctor only waves his hand airily. "He's one of _us_ too," he explains, and the wolf's posture relaxes slightly. "And thank goodness he is, memory charm is a pain in the ass to cast. And now tell me, Dani. Did you transform spontaneously this morning?"

Dani-wolf nods.

"And now you're stuck?"

More nodding.

"You _do_ know that transforming on such hours, at our training ground to boot, is an extremely risky move, no??"

Dani-wolf lets out a growl of indignation, probably meaning to say that he didn't do this on purpose, but Héctor only crosses his arms and glares, and Kieran swears he can see Dani-wolf shrinking lower to the ground. Héctor is naturally a chill person, and rarely gets his feathers ruffled, but he can be _really_ scary when he's mad, especially when a supernatural-related incident comes up. The Spaniard may understand his duties as a club wizard, but that doesn't mean he enjoys fixing all the mess that his teammates make on a daily basis.

And oh, speaking about fixing... "Why don't you just reverse his transformation and make him human again like what you sometimes do to me when my power goes awry? Instead of scolding him like that??"

Héctor sighs. "I would love to do that, KT. But yesterday we had a game, and my magic hasn't recovered fully. I'm not sure I have enough for a reversal spell, especially if I have to de-transform Dani's whole body. Every time I help you, I only need to solidify your wrist at the very least, and your wristband will take care of the rest, but I can't use the same method here. I'll need some reinforcements. Probably I should call Mikel…"

"He's in a meeting, remember?" Kieran reminds him. "You can't just disturb him, I guess. Which leaves you to just one choice."

Héctor groans. "Oh, no. Not Lucas. Anyone but him."

"Well, in his matter, do we have another choice??" Kieran deadpans, looking at Héctor levelly in the eyes. "Dani needs help, and if you can't give it to him, then someone else should. Besides we're just asking Lucas to aid a friend, which I'm certain he would gladly do...and you can make sure he doesn't do anything else. Be _logical_ , Héc. We can't have a _wolf_ playing for us."

Kieran silently prepares himself to be scolded, probably Héctor saying that he shouldn't be too blunt but to his surprise, the Spanish right-back only rubs on his temples. "Maybe you're right," he concedes resignedly, pulling out his phone. "Wait a minute, I'm calling Lucas."

The Scotsman heaves a breath of relief. "And maybe we should consider moving him too," he says, tilting his head slightly at Dani-wolf. "I think I hear Auba laughing outside and we can't let the others see a wolf in the dressing room, can we??"

"Yeah, why didn't I think about it sooner," Héctor mutters as he digs for the remaining of his magic and waves his hand in circular motion to conjure a portal to a place that Kieran recognizes as one of the unused physio rooms. "Come in, quick, I don't have enough energy to sustain it for long."

Dani-wolf obediently stands up and walks into the portal, followed by Kieran. Héctor enters last while pressing his phone on his ear, talking to Lucas and closing the portal at the same time. Kieran has no idea what he's actually saying to the Uruguayan for the whole conversation is in Spanish, but judging from the sharp tone in Héctor's voice, he must've given Lucas loads of warnings, and the Scotsman has to suppress a smile. 

With another exasperated sigh, Héctor finally hangs up. "Lucas is on his way," he informs. "He said he could get here faster using a portal or teleportation spell but I've begged him not to. Can't risk him being exposed. So we should wait."

Kieran nods in understanding and sits on one of the chairs there, fishing out his own phone to play some games while waiting.

After awhile Kieran raises his head to see what his teammates are doing, since the room has been awfully quiet, but he's certainly not prepared for the sight before him.

Héctor is sitting closely to Dani-wolf, stroking and petting his black fur softly while whispering something in his ears in Spanish. Dani-wolf responds by leaning to the touch and burying his head into Héctor's neck, a soft growl emitting from him as he licks Héctor's throat gently.

They look...cute, yet intimate at the same time.

Quickly Kieran drops his gaze back to his phone and stares at the screen without actually seeing anything, cheeks coloring furiously as if they're on fire. Despite not looking at it anymore, his head's still filled by the image of Héctor and Dani-wolf, snuggling (for lack of better word) together. His hands are trembling again, but for a completely different reason this time.

He and Dani might've joined Arsenal during the same transfer window, but both of them have never been that close. The language barrier might be the biggest hurdle here since Dani's English still isn't brilliant and Kieran knows his Scottish accent won't help their communication in any way. Dani usually hangs out with Arsenal's Spanish-speaking faction, while Kieran leans more towards the English guys, mostly the academy graduates. But Héctor has been the first Arsenal player he's met and befriended, since they're both injured at that time and often had to do their special training and physio appointments together.

Something gnaws inside Kieran's stomach as he remembers that Dani actually has known Héctor longer than that, as they were in the U-21 national team together back then. He also recalls how Dani has hailed Héctor as the one who convinced him to join Arsenal, helped him to find a house and settled in London and so forth. At first Kieran thinks Héctor was just being nice – well, he's always nice to everyone in the team for starters, but seeing him and Dani like this now, the Scotsman starts to wonder whether there's something else in their relationship after all.

And the thought of it makes his heart sink.

Absentmindedly, Kieran's fingers travel to the restriction wristband on his left hand. Héctor gave it to him after the last time Kieran called the older man in the middle of the night to help him when he couldn't get himself solid again. It's red and white, unlike Kieran's old green one, because, "Look, I know you're a Celt born and bred and I totally understand that, but right now you're at Arsenal and you have to wear these colors, at least during matches. Please?". And Kieran actually has been all too giddy about the gift that he wouldn't care even if the wristband is white and navy, or worse, royal blue.

And perhaps, perhaps at that time, Kieran has allowed himself to _hope_ , to think that maybe Héctor does care about him as someone more than a teammate, or a friend. However, as he glances at Héctor and Dani again from the corners of his eyes, and witnesses how the werewolf is now on Héctor's lap, he knows that it simply isn't the case.

In frustration, he tears off the wristband and throws it on the floor while abruptly rises on his feet, startling the two Spaniards. 

"Whoa, what happened, KT??" Héctor asks in surprise as he never witnesses such behavior from Kieran before. "And where are you going??"

"Need some air," Kieran mumbles, and without waiting for their answer, he immediately runs through the solid wall.

He has dashed through three rooms (which, thankfully, are all empty) when realization finally kicks in. He has used his power, in broad daylight, and if someone has caught him in the act, goodness knows what Héctor's going to do to him, or worse, maybe he's going to be taken to the Council right away! Stopping himself, Kieran leans to the wall without phasing and steadies his breath, his mind travelling to the sight he saw in the physio room earlier.

It's silly, he knows. He's only known Héctor for less than a year, and there are still lots of things he doesn't know about the Spaniard – Héctor's footballing hero, for example, or the name of his pet if he owns one, or even his favorite food. But Kieran can't deny what he feels either.

He likes Héctor.

He desperately wishes that he can tell the older about it. But he also understands that any kind of confession that might fly out of his mouth would cause nothing but awkwardness between them, and probably some tension between him and Dani, since Héctor can never, ever accept his feelings.

Kieran sighs and runs his hand through his hair.

He's such a mess.

-

Most of his teammates are already there when Kieran quietly walks inside the dressing room. Thankfully he's never been one of the loudest guys around, so no one takes his silence as something out of ordinary, and they only greet him with "morning, mate" or "what's up, KT?" as he makes his way to his seat. Auba and Laca are cracking jokes as usual, while Musti and Nico are fighting about who gets to choose the music in the dressing room, but Kieran just sits there, hiding his face by pretending to look for something inside his bag.

Not long afterwards, the door to the dressing room swings open again and Héctor enters, followed by Dani (who, thankfully, has become human again) and Lucas. 

"Where were you two??" Auba asks, indicating Héctor and Dani. "I saw your cars at the parking lot when I arrived but you two weren't here."

Dani blushes a bit, and Héctor scratches his head, certainly not expecting that question. "We, uhm, we had a bit of a business to do, so…"

David raises an eyebrow. "'Business', huh?? So tell me, how much of a good-good did Dani do to get the job, Héc??"

The entire dressing room erupts into laughter while Dani and Héctor both turn bright red and exclaim, "That's not what we meant!!" at the same time, and Sokratis covers the ears of poor Bukayo and yells, "Not in front of the kids, you guys!!". However, Kieran stays silent. He simply doesn't feel like the need to join in the commotion, also the implication of Héctor and Dani fucking each other doesn't feel funny for him right now.

A hand is clamped on his shoulder and Kieran looks up to see Lucas. "You okay?" the small Uruguayan asks quietly, worry lines clear on his forehead. 

Kieran swallows and looks away. He gets the feeling that Lucas might've known what has happened, but that doesn't mean he's willing to say the truth anyway. "I am."

Lucas doesn't answer for a few moments, though he doesn't leave Kieran's side either, until finally he says softly, "I know how you feel."

Kieran blinks and looks back at his older teammate. "You do??"

"Yeah," Lucas confirms, a sad smile gracing his features. "Feels like something is ripped out of you, doesn't it."

Lucas' eyes sweep over to the side, and Kieran follows his gaze until it lands to the empty seat on the other side of Héctor's.

Oh. _Oh_. 

"I'm sorry," Kieran murmurs. He doesn't know what has happened between Lucas and Bernd, and as far as he knows the currently injured German keeper doesn't harbor any ill feelings towards the Uruguayan in any way, but it must've been quite hard for Lucas to sport such expression.

Lucas cracks another sad smile. "It's okay," he assures Kieran. "I'm still trying to move on, but as far as I know, it gets better with time."

"Really?" Kieran hears himself say.

Lucas nods in affirmation.

Kieran takes a deep breath. He wants to trust Lucas' words, he really does. He really wishes to believe that one day it won't hurt like this anymore. However, currently he finds it hard to do so with his teammates singing horrible rendition of a Spanish love song towards the still red-faced Héctor and Dani. Still, he appreciates Lucas' effort.

"Thank you, Lucas," Kieran whispers, giving the diminutive midfielder the best smile he can muster in such condition.

Lucas nods and pats on Kieran's shoulder once more. "And oh, I found this at the physio room, I think you dropped it," he says, placing a familiar-looking red and white wristband on Kieran's hand. "Feels like you might need it."

The Scotsman stares at it and touches it with shaky fingers as Lucas skips away to his own seat. His restriction wristband. The very thing he relies on to keep his ability in check. At first Kieran has thought that it would be better for him to get rid of it, that he doesn't need any reminder of his own stupidity for thinking that Héctor might like him only because the older has gifted him this. But after the talk with Lucas, he understands that he can't just simply throw it away.

He puts on the wristband back with new determination (and feels the flame of his power slowly dying down at the back of his head). He still has a long way to go, both in moving on and controlling his intangibility. But he also knows that with the aid of it, eventually, eventually he will be able to do both. 

For Héctor's sake, as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that concludes the chapter.
> 
> A bit of background information, the werewolves in my AU are born that way, not bitten, and they can transform anytime, but their powers tend to peak during full moon. In Dani's case, he sometimes transforms spontaneously when he forgets to wear his restriction bracelet.
> 
> White and navy are Sp*rs' colors, while royal blue is Rangers'. I highly doubt that Héctor would give KT a wristband in such colors, and KT would never wear it either even if he does. Lol. And speaking about KT and Héc, I kinda feel a bit bad for my beloved Scotsman since I ended up not giving him a happy ending for his crush...but well, I'm sure he'll be able to get through it XD
> 
> Hope you guys love it.
> 
> Kudos, comments, and constructive criticisms are appreciated!


	10. Divine Intervention (Arsenal/Gen)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucas' obsession in studying magic and buying "magical trinkets" becomes a bit too much. Bernd calls all the supers in Arsenal to stage some intervention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is, again, dedicated to my favorite writing partner [coffeebreakcreations](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coffeebreakcreations) who gave me the very idea for this story. I honestly have no idea how he does so, I swear he understands my AU better than I do, sometimes XD and again, readers, PLEASE check out his stories, I SWEAR they're much much better than mine.
> 
> Featuring: Bernd Leno, Lucas Torreira, Hector Bellerin, Pierre-Emerick Aubameyang, Ainsley Maitland-Niles, Mesut Ozil, Emi Martinez, Kieran Tierney, Dani Ceballos, Rob Holding, Calum Chambers, and Bukayo Saka.

"You all know why I called you in here," Bernd states, arms crossed on his chest.

Bernd Leno has a way of expressing his anger that all Arsenal players fondly call "The Five Stages of Leno's Wrath". If he rolls his eyes or taps his foot impatiently but his face still stays within the range of his impassive mask ("You mean his resting bitch face," Musti once said rather unkindly), that means he's only mildly annoyed. But if he starts to raise his voice, his face redden and his eyes darken, he's certainly at the peak of his anger. The German keeper himself is usually pretty cool-headed and rarely stoops to that level, but Kieran knows that once he does, then the one who has angered him is as good as dead.

And right now, judging from his body language, it seems like he's somewhere between stage 1 and stage 2, but everyone who gathers in there knows that they still won't risk anything.

"I know," Hector mutters, a rather exasperated look in his eyes. "It's about Lucas, isn't it."

Bernd gives a rather jerky nod and Kieran has to suppress a smile. The antics of the tiny Uruguayan have always been their internal jokes, among the supers at the very least, and he's pretty sure he knows now what Bernd actually wishes to talk about.

"Why, what has he done?" Bukayo, being the good and slightly clueless kid he is, asks.

"What _hasn't_ he done, more precisely," Ainsley grumbles. "I caught him browsing 'rare magical trinkets' on his phone yesterday."

"Again?" Mesut asks, raising an eyebrow.

Ainsley nods. "Yeah. Again."

Everyone looks at each other's eyes and shares identical deep sighs, because they all know that whenever Lucas does so, it never ends well.

"Yeah, I've tried telling him that if there's a mirror trapping an ancient spirit, a candle that allows you to travel cross dimension with your soul, or a book that retells primordial secrets, the Council would've probably cracked down on it," Hector says, rolling his eyes. "But did he listen to me?? No. Not at all."

"He just asked me earlier if I have extra cash," Kieran puts in, "because his bank thought his frequent withdraws are fraudulent and locked his account."

Auba groans. "Goodness. The situation's far worse than expected. What the heck are we doing here, then?? Let's just get to him right now and put a stop to it." 

"Is he even still around here, though?" Mesut asks. "Or shall we come to his house??"

All eyes immediately look at Rob, who is currently sitting very still on his seat, his posture perfectly rigid, his eyes glued shut and his back straight. Kieran knows that the English centre back is currently shuffling through every single one of Colney's security cameras inside his mind, trying to see whether Lucas is still around.

"I think he's still here, though," Rob says, eyes still scrunched tight, "because his car's still in the parking lot, I recognize it, but he…oh. Oh no. I can see him now, he's in one of the empty physio rooms…" 

"What is he doing there?" Ainsley asks, though he suspects he's known the answer.

Creases appear between Rob's eyebrows as he strains to see clearer, or at least that's what Kieran guesses he's doing. "I think he's browsing something on eBay now. He's...oh no. He's participating in another auction. And if I'm not mistaken, it's a bronze jar that is said to contain... the ashes of a phoenix??"

Hector groans. "Oh God, that one. I know that. It's probably another junk as well. And even if it's a real phoenix, can he really take time off to take care of it?? He will need to apply for a permit in the Council too and all."

"Wait, what, phoenix does exist?" Bukayo asks, eyes wide, but this time no one pays him any attention.

"You two, do something," Bernd pleads, looking at Rob and Calum, the tech experts in the house. "We need to stop him before it's too late, and…"

"I'm trying to," Calum responds, fingers flying over his laptop's keyboard in lightning speed, "but it's not easy, he's using an encrypted phone."

"Huh," Dani muses, "that explains it. One time he asked me to go phone shopping and we ended up on a dark alley with a dealer instead of lining up in Apple."

Bernd turns his head slowly to look at Dani, and the Spanish midfielder instantly shrinks into his seat. "You took him to _what_??"

"And you didn't bother to tell us?" Auba adds, raising his eyebrows.

"I didn't know he meant to do that in the first place!" Dani argues weakly, though he feels like withering under Bernd's death glare.

"You're a _werewolf_ , Ceballos, if you can't use your senses to detect suspicious activity then why are you even one??"

"Don't blame Dani," Hector quickly leaps to his boyfriend's defence. "As he's said before, he didn't know anything. But I really can't say anything about Lucas in this matter. He can't even do his shady dealings by himself."

Bernd takes a deep breath and runs his hand through his hair, and for one second Kieran is afraid the keeper is trying to rip his own hair out. "Alright then. Change of plans. I don't care anymore. The Council, I might be able to handle them but that phone might attract the MI6 and I don't want to deal with that. Cal, brick it."

Calum looks at the German keeper, jaws dropping open. "Wait, you mean…?"

"I mean it," Bernd says curtly. "Destroy it with your power, make sure it's unusable, et cetera et cetera."

"And this is why I let him lead when it comes to superpower stuff," Auba whispers to Ainsley who sits beside him, and both of them snicker quietly, which Bernd studiously ignores.

An unmistakable glee jumps into Calum's eyes at the chance to use his power, and he sets aside his laptop. "Gotcha."

"Be careful, though," Hector warns, a tinge of worry in his voice. "I don't want to replace my phone again, not after you destroyed it twice last month."

Calum pouts as he removes his restriction bracelet. "Oh c'mon, it was an accident. Besides you could easily revive your phone again with your reversal spell no??"

"Not when it's your power that caused it." Hector massages his temples. "And that's beside the point! I really meant it. Just focus on Lucas' phone, please. And stay away from anything else. I don't want Mikel's eyes all over me again because he thinks I can't do my job as vice-captain and control my own teammates!"

"Fine, fine," Calum sighs and reaches out to touch Rob's hand. "Rob, can you...?"

Rob gently intertwines Calum's fingers with his own, and Calum closes his eyes as well. Kieran knows that Rob's projecting the images he sees in his mind to Calum's, in order to guide the older defender to Lucas' phone and make sure he doesn't destroy anything else. Then Calum lifts his free hand and snaps his fingers.

"There," he says with a slight triumphant tone in his voice. "That should do the trick."

Kieran expects to feel something, probably some static filling the air or electrical current tickling his skin, but nothing happens. He's about to ask whether Calum's power truly works when a black void suddenly pops out of thin air, and out comes a diminutive Uruguayan they're all too familiar with, face red and small sparks of flames dancing on the tips of his fingers.

"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU GUYS JUST DO TO MY PHONE—"

-

"So the talk doesn't end well?" Emi asks amusedly.

Bernd snorts as he pulls on the straps of his gloves, tightening it. "Of course not. It just escalates into a screaming match, and I'm pretty sure Lucas would've killed Cal right there and then if it's not for Hector subduing him. It's all a mess, really."

"I can imagine that," Emi agrees, a smile in his voice that would've manifested on his lips if only he doesn't see how irked Bernd currently is.

They're preparing for their goalkeeper training that day, separated from the outfield players as usual. Inaki and Sal are standing a few feet away, talking to each other, and Matt is beside them, listening to their conversation. Matt doesn't have any superpower, but Bernd and Emi have agreed to let him in their secret because, goalkeeper union and all. 

"You should've been there yesterday, though," Bernd grumbles, putting on his other gloves. "You know Lucas better than anyone, and he always listens to you."

"My apologies," Emi replies demurely. He was invited to attend the supers' meeting as well yesterday, but couldn't come as he had to pick up his family who just came from Argentina. There's something in Bernd's sentence that didn't quite sit right with him, though. "Wait, why did you say that Lucas always listens to me?"

Bernd looks at him questioningly. "Doesn't he?" the older keeper asks. "You spend a lot of time with him, invite him to your house for barbecues and all, and you're practically the leader of Arsenal's South American faction, he'll listen to you."

"Not really," Emi mutters as he throws a glance at the other side of the field, where all the outfield players are warming up. "He bullies me and makes me buy things for him, that's what. But actually, I know someone whom I'm sure he would listen to."

"Really?? Who?? Mikel??"

"You."

Bernd blinks and stares at Emi as if the Argentinian has just said that Shkodran Mustafi is a better defender than Virgil van Dijk. "Huh? Me? Why me?? Lucas and I aren't even that close. Well, aside from the supers thing, I mean. I'm not even one of the captains, why am I even in charge of the supernatural side of this team..."

"But that little shit respects you," Emi cuts in, a wickedly knowing look in his eyes that Bernd can't comprehend. "Just try to talk to him, and see if he doesn't heed your advice."

"You mean I need to fry him up with my light?"

"No, I mean as in you need to talk to him _kindly_."

Again, another stare, this time maybe as if Emi has just said that Shkodran Mustafi deserves the Ballon d'Or. "What the heck??"

"Oh, just trust me, Bernd," Emi sighs, looking at the slightly shorter keeper right in the eyes. "He may be a stubborn one but he's not deaf to reason. And he's willing to listen if it's from _you_ , I'm sure. Just try."

Bernd still looks at him skeptically, but finally sighs as well and nods. "Fine. I will try. But if this does not work, I'm blaming you."

"If this fails, I will eat my own gloves."

"Deal."

-

"What are you doing, Hec?"

"Can't you see?" Hector shoots back, eyes not leaving the page of a thick book he's currently reading. "I'm studying."

Dani scoots closer to his boyfriend so that he can take a peek at the book on Hector's hand. "Soul Projection Spell? Really?"

"Yeah, well, you know that after that day, Lucas is always careful not to sit around a CCTV for fear that Rob will be able to see him," Hector sighs, "and I'll be damned if he doesn't surround himself with protection spells to make sure standard spying charms won't work on him, so I have to resort to this. It's high level stuff, though, I'm not sure if I can maintain it for more than ten minutes or so without collapsing."

"I'm sure you'll do just fine," Dani says encouragingly, ruffling Hector's soft locks. "But why are you still doing this? I mean, I don't think Lucas is still trying to do his shady stuff anymore nowadays."

"Yeah, but how long is he going to stay that way? What if later he lapses back to his old habit?? Then I will have to fix things up again and…"

"Then we'll just have Bernd confronting him again," Emi states lightly as he slides in to grab something from his locker, obviously having heard Hector and Dani's conversation. "I mean, the talk he gave Lucas seems to work wonders, don't you think?"

"It does," Dani agrees. "If only we'd known from the start that it's all we need to make Lucas stop, though, we wouldn't need to go through that confrontation with him. How do you know, though?"

"Know what?"

"That Lucas would listen to Bernd. And especially, why would he do that in the first place??"

A wide, shit-eating grin slowly spreads on Emi's face. "Let's just say I have my ways."

And he walks out of the room, leaving the two Spaniards confusedly staring at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Other supers in Arsenal that I've mentioned here and their respective abilities:
> 
>   * Rob Holding: He can tap into and see through any security cameras within unlimited radius. He needs to be in stasis to do so. He can also project the images to someone else with the touch of his hand, one person at a time.
>   * Calum Chambers: Electromagnetic pulse emission. He can use it to either activate or disturb any electronic devices around him.
>   * Bukayo Saka: [Adoptive muscle memory](https://powerlisting.fandom.com/wiki/Adoptive_Muscle_Memory). He only manifests his ability recently, hence his cluelessness about lots of things in supernatural world.
>   * Emi Martinez: A form of retrocognition, in which he can see recent events/memories from anything he touches.
>   * Ainsley Maitland-Niles: Also a wizard, poised by Hector to replace him as Arsenal's team wizard someday.
> 

> 
> And a bit of background info:
> 
>   * Bernd is considered the unofficial leader among all the supers in Arsenal since he's the most experienced with superpower-related stuffs (considering he has manifested his abilities since birth, which I've mentioned [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23852428/chapters/60461923)).
>   * Yes, Emi knows about Lucas' unrequited feelings towards Bernd. Bernd himself is still completely oblivious about it.
>   * And yes, RobCal is actually dating here.
>   * Inaki Cana Pavon and Sal Bibbo are Arsenal's goalkeeping coaches, Matt Macey is Arsenal's third choice keeper.
>   * I'm sorry that I seemed to bully Mustafi a lot in this chapter. I swear, I actually love him XD
> 

> 
> I promise I will write individual chapters for every super I've mentioned here once I can get the time and good plot for them.
> 
> Hope you like this story.
> 
> Kudos, comments and constructive criticisms are appreciated!


	11. Rebel just for you (RobCal)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of unfair decision from the referee during a game (and the rage of his boyfriend) kinda throws Calum off-balance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My take on Arsenal's starting XI in this story:
> 
> Formation: 3-4-3  
> Goalkeeper: Bernd  
> Centre-backs: Calum (right), Rob (middle), Kieran (left)  
> Wing-backs: Hector (right), Ainsley (left)  
> Midfielders: Dani, Granit  
> Forwards: Bukayo (left wing), Auba (centre forward), Nico (right wing)

It starts as a normal match.

A derby against Chelsea to be precise, at Stamford Bridge to boot, and Calum knows it's not going to be easy. He himself is only too glad to play again as one of the three centre-backs alongside Rob and Kieran, and he's eager to prove that he's still fully capable of holding his position there after his injury.

The game starts and soon it becomes clear that the blue side of London hasn't forgotten their defeat at Arsenal's hand last season at the final of the FA Cup. Interceptions and tackles fall all over the place, and just as the clock hits the 16th minute, Kurt Zouma swings his foot towards Auba's, making him fall just inside Chelsea's penalty area.

"Damn, that's a penalty, I think," Hector murmurs from his place not too far from Calum's.

Calum is inclined to agree. After all, the tackle seems nasty, and Auba is currently lying on the pitch, groaning in pain, visibly inside the penalty area. But the referee, seemingly unsure whether it's truly a foul or not, finally goes to check VAR.

As every player stands there waiting for the decision from the referee, Calum gives a quick glance to his left, and he guesses he isn't the only one to do so. As predicted, Rob is quietly removing a white wristband from his left hand and closing his eyes. Then, all of a sudden, he goes very still, his back rigid and his jaw clenched tight.

The spectators on the stadium and their respective homes (except maybe some fellow supers) won't notice anything wrong, since almost every player simply remains there in their position, aside from Auba who is currently being treated. But Calum knows what Rob is actually doing. He knows that though Rob's body is physically there, his mind is somewhere else, browsing through the VAR cams with the referees to be precise, trying to see himself whether it's a foul or not before the ref announces it.

_What's taking you so long?_ Lucas' voice echoes inside Calum's mind, obviously having linked all their minds together with his mind-binding spell.

_Lucas, please don't,_ Hector groans, exasperation clear even in his thought-speak.

_I'll be thankful if you stay out of my mind, please,_ Rob retorts, _and you disturbing me like this won't quicken the process. I'm trying to see, be patient_.

_Yeah, must be boring waiting there on the bench, right, Lucas,_ Dani says with a snicker in his tone.

_I'll take your place on the next game, Ceballos, just you watch,_ Lucas snaps back, obviously displeased at Dani's comment. 

_Calm down, everyone,_ this time it's Kieran who speaks out, and Calum wonders how the Scotsman's accent is still so distinctive in the psychic link – they're supposed to hear each other's thoughts only, for goodness' sake. _I think he gets something_.

And indeed Rob does. His body jerks backwards so suddenly that he might've fallen over if it isn't for Calum holding him back (no pun intended). His eyes are blinking rapidly, his breaths shallow and fast.

"Are you okay??" Calum whispers, not caring that everyone can see him and Rob right now. He knows it always happens whenever his boyfriend has just awoken from stasis after using his power, but that doesn't mean Calum gets less worried each time. "Did you see the footage?"

"Y-yeah, I'm fine," Rob breathes, massaging his temples. "And it's a foul, certainly. We'll be getting a penalty."

"Are you sure?"

Rob smiles confidently. "Yeah. I saw it."

But as the saying goes, the God of VAR has never been on Arsenal's side, because the ref then determines that it isn't a major foul and only gives a free-kick instead, much to Arsenal players and fans' disappointment. And of course, being the little brat he is, Lucas feels the need to moan, _I thought you said it's going to be a penalty!_

"It _is_ supposed to be a penalty," Rob mutters under his breath through gritted teeth. "The ref is being cruel to us. As usual."

Seeing how his boyfriend is clenching his fists furiously at the unfair treatment, especially after his attempts in using his ability only goes to waste, and how Auba (whose condition has been cleared by the team doctor) and Nico are protesting hotly to the ref to no avail, Calum can't help anger bubbling inside him as well. Things like this don't just happen once or twice, he knows. And probably his teammates are right, Premier League refs always seem to have it in for Arsenal. Even with all those cameras, they always turn a blind eye whenever it's Arsenal players who get fouled. So, what are they useful for, again?

_Cal, don't!_ Hector shrieks through the psychic link as he notices that Calum has removed his restriction wristband as well.

But there's no stopping Calum now. His team – and his boyfriend – have been wronged, and he won't let those stupid cameras incriminating them even further. Lifting his hand, he focuses his mind to the cameras and snaps his fingers.

A surge of electromagnetic pulse instantly rises inside him, radiating out of his whole body in strong waves. In fact, it's so powerful that the emission of it alone almost knocks him to the ground. But to Calum's horror, the wave doesn't simply stop at the cameras alone. No, it spreads all over the stadium, spilling towards the spectators' stand before fading away on the air.

And with a loud screeching wail that almost sounds like it comes from another world, all the lights in the stadium die down.

Silence. Everyone just stands there in shock, certainly not expecting nor preparing for something like this to happen, and Calum drops down on his knees in despair.

He is so screwed. Though an accident like this isn't something particularly out of ordinary in the modern world, and can be explained by busted wirings or some shits like that, he knows the extent of his action is still too severe to be ignored. He practically has shut down a football game. An entire football game. And Calum tries not to think about what kind of punishment the Council might've prepared for him now.

Thankfully, after a few minutes the lights start blinking on and off before glowing back in full radiance, followed by the ultimate return of power to the whole stadium. Calum breathes out a sigh of relief. He may still have to serve a sentence here, but hopefully it won't be that bad since the shutdown only happened temporarily. Sending an apologetic look to every one of his teammates who's glaring at him, he waits for the officials to signal that the game's safe to continue, and he resumes playing.

He talks about it with Hector when the half time rolls by and they walk back to their dressing room.

"I'm sorry for what I did earlier," Calum sighs. "I didn't mean to do that – well, not to that extent, I swear. I was mad because the ref was being unjust towards us and—"

"I know, but it's still not a good enough reason to justify using your power like that," Hector grumbles. "I daresay you'll be facing a hearing from the Council, still."

Calum tries not to wince at the mention of the Council, though he's pretty much prepared for it. "Yeah, I've figured that out. Still, I didn't cause permanent damage this time, so that should've counted to something."

Hector shoots the slightly older defender a long look. "Uh, Cal?"

"Yeah?"

"You do realize that the return of power in the stadium was mostly my doing, right? I used Cancelling Spell to reverse the effect of your ability, Mikel and Lucas assisted me, and Bernd replaced the light with his own?"

If Calum was still somewhat pale previously from the shock after using his superpower, he's completely white by now. "You're kidding me."

"I'm not. Ask Mikel if you don't believe me. I can also fly you to see the lightings, the bulbs are all busted thanks to you. And I'm surprised Bernd hasn't tried to fry you up, but then again he was too busy saving shots from Werner and Pulisic."

Calum gulps and risks a glance backwards, and immediately wishes he hasn't. Because Bernd is staring at him. And it's not the "What-the-heck-did-you-just-do" look that the keeper usually gives every time one of the defenders makes a blunder that causes an opposition player to put a ball past him, but a straight-up "I'm-so-gonna-kill-you-Chambers" glare. And Calum knows that Bernd, despite his calm demeanor and restrictive use of his power, won't hesitate to do so if necessary.

"Help me," Calum whispers. "Or just kill me right away, it would be less painful."

Hector smirks. "No can do, Cal. You know the rules – if you rile up Bernd Leno, then you're all on your own."

And with that the Spaniard skips away to grab a bottle of water.

Calum is about to join him but then a soft hand is placed on his shoulder and he looks around to find Rob.

"Are you okay?" Rob asks, concern clear in his voice and eyes.

Calum sighs and lets his boyfriend pull him into a short hug. "I am," he mumbles. "I'll probably get called by the Council though. That, if our keeper doesn't kill me first."

"Serves you right for doing such things," Rob says, though there's no real malice in his voice. "I'm curious though. Why did you do it? I admit that the ref might've been a little partial towards Chelsea, but you know you shouldn't use your power like that."

Calum swallows and looks away.

"Come on, just tell me. You know I won't judge y—"

"It's you."

Rob blinks and stares at Calum as if he can't believe what the shorter man just said. "What??"

"The reason why I got so mad that I ended up doing it," Calum states, staring resolutely at his own fingers. "It's you."

"...Why me, though? You doing that won't bring any advantages to me, or to you in that matter, except some unneeded troubles with the Council."

Calum rubs on the space between his eyes. "I know. And yes, I probably shouldn't have lost my head at that point. However, you looked so angry earlier, after using your power to no avail and we didn't end up getting a penalty. I understand that whatever you saw there in the footage wouldn't do shit if the ref simply decided to be unjust towards us, but still…" He lets out another sigh. "I'm sorry, Rob. I really am."

"What are you sorry for?" Rob asks, and Calum is pretty sure he doesn't only imagine the humor inside the younger man's voice.

"For acting recklessly? For doing something that might expose the existence of supers to the whole world? For inconveniencing you, and the whole team in that matter? I don't know, pick one."

Rob laughs, though Calum can't see what's so funny in this situation. "Always so dramatic, Chambers." He quickly sobers up. "I'm not mad, though."

Calum stares at his boyfriend for a few seconds before finally breathes out, "You're not??"

Rob shakes his head. "I really am not. What's to be mad at, in this situation? I mean, alright, you've caused some chaos, but you're not deliberately offending me or something, so all's good." He grins. "And oh, I feel a little honored even, since you decided to break the rules because of me."

Calum blushes a bit and looks down so that Rob cannot see it.

"Also, that's your own fault anyway, so I won't be held responsible in this matter."

That of course earns him a smack on the shoulder from his boyfriend. "Hey! I thought you're siding with me in this matter!!"

Rob laughs again and ducks a bit to avoid Calum's second hit. "I'm sorry! And trust me, I am on your side. But that doesn't make your action any less wrong, no?"

"True," Calum admits rather begrudgingly. "I expect you to be a bit...more sympathetic, though."

Rob only grins and pats Calum's shoulder. "What if I help you talk to Mikel after this? He must've wanted to question you first before you're summoned by the Council, or maybe even help you a bit."

Calum smiles and gives his boyfriend a quick peck on the lips.

He still wants to say something else, but then Granit's head pops out of the door of the dressing room and he calls out, "Hey, lovebirds! Mikel wants to review our tactic for the second half. Are you joining us, or are you just going to stand there making out?"

Calum turns bright red again at that, but Rob only responds with another grin. "Sure, sure, we are coming. Come on, Cal."

Calum nods, still not trusting himself to speak, and together with Rob he walks inside the dressing room, their fingers intertwined with each other's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that concludes this chapter.
> 
> As I've mentioned in the previous chapter, Rob's ability is to tap into and see through any video cameras (including VAR cams), while Calum can emit electromagnetic pulse to disturb all electronic devices around him. And I really love their soulmate-like relationship, I wish I can explore more about it later.
> 
> Hope you like the story. Kudos, comments and constructive criticisms are appreciated.


	12. (im)probable coincidence (arsenal fc/gen, mostly bernd leno-centered)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are a few disadvantages of being a super, and one of them is regularly being suspected of using their abilities to make things easier in their daily life, including football games.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After months finally I have the time and idea to update this story :(
> 
> This story's set after Arsenal's game against Leeds which ended 0-0 and Leeds somehow managed to hit the posts thrice, which led to me thinking, "What if someone suspects them of cheating because of it?" thus this story was born!
> 
> I'm aware that this story's mostly pointless but I hope you'll enjoy it nevertheless!

"Do you promise to tell the truth?"

"Well, it's not like I have another choice, don't I," Bernd mutters, resolutely staring into his questioner's eyes.

Either the man before him doesn't notice the slight sarcasm in Bernd's voice, or he just doesn't care about it (Bernd suspects the latter, though), as he simply leans closer to the Arsenal keeper. "Tell me," he says. "Did you or did you not use your power during the match earlier?"

That question is pretty much expected, but that doesn't mean Bernd enjoys getting asked about it. Gritting his teeth, he stares at the man before him, an unspoken  _ how dare you not trust me _ hanging between them like an invisible mist.

There are a few things Bernd likes about being a super. Better strength and endurance compared to normal humans is one thing. A chance to fight some bad guys and make the world a better place would be another. And since Bernd's no hypocrite, he'll admit that he thinks being able to manipulate light is really cool. 

But there are a few disadvantages of being a super too, and one of them is regularly being suspected of using his ability to cheat during football games.

They've just finished a match today, an away one against Leeds, a disappointing 0-0 draw flashing on the scoreboard as they trudge to the sideline. Hector looks positively distraught, Reiss and Joe's heads hang down in disappointment, Dani and Rob have their hands clamped around the arms of a furious Kieran. To make matters worse, Nico got red-carded earlier for headbutting an opposition player and Bernd knows Mikel already has a headache incoming with the amount of homework on his plate.

Sighing, Bernd makes his way to the tunnel. The atmosphere around him is decidedly dismal, as it always is after a bad game, and Bernd has no doubt Mikel would give them a few choice words after this but for now he doesn't want to think about it. Making up his mind to simply have a shower and forget for a while that this match ever happened, he follows his teammates to the dressing room.

But as he's about to reach the door, he spots a familiar tall figure with blonde hair and pointy ears coming to their direction and Bernd barely manages to suppress a groan.

To the public eye, Per Mertesacker is a retired footballer who's currently working as Arsenal's academy manager. For the supers residing in England and Germany, he supposedly holds an important position within both Councils. For Bernd, the enormous German has been his superior for five years in the shadow division of the German Council, a thing that not many people know about, not even Marc.

Now that Per is here, not even bothering to use concealment charm to hide his elf ears, Bernd just knows that shit's about to go down.

All Arsenal players also stare at Per warily, especially Hector who used to play alongside him for a few years, but the academy manager only smiles. "Don't look so scared," he says in a reassuring tone. "I'm here as the Council's representative, indeed, but I mean no harm. I only have to inform you about something, and maybe ask a few questions."

The others seem to relax slightly at those words, but not Bernd. He knows Per Mertesacker enough to recognize that the older German's probably just sugarcoating things right now. But he only remains silent and waits until Per tells them his intention.

"The Council just noticed an abnormality around here, and they sent me to investigate it," Per explains, as casually as he can be but Bernd doesn't miss the professional, business-like tone lying underneath it. "Therefore, I have to check it out with you guys."

Bernd watches as his teammates exchange glances before Ainsley finally states rather hesitantly, "We didn't do anything. We know we're not allowed to use magic beside to control the one on the pitch, so whatever abnormalities you detected earlier, it sure as hell wasn't our doing."

"I also hope so, Ainsley, but you just had a tight game and somehow Leeds managed to hit the woodwork thrice," Per says gently. "I have to make sure there's no magical interference or something there. Don't worry, if it turns out you guys don't do anything wrong, nothing's going to happen. Mikel already knows about this, by the way."

Again, another exchange of glances, but before anyone can say anything, Per diverts his gaze towards Bernd. "I have to ask you one by one about this," he states. "And since you're the one who stands closest to the posts most of the time, what about you go first, Bernd?"

Of course Per would ask him to go first. He should've known. Aware of how every single gaze in that room is currently directed at him, Bernd simply stands up and looks at his superior right in the eyes. "Alright," he replies calmly as if Per has just offered him a cup of coffee. "Let's do this."

And that's basically the story of how the two of them end up in one of the unused rooms in Elland Road, Per trying to interrogate Bernd about the usage of his power during the game.

"Look, you know me," Bernd sighs when it becomes clear that Per won't back out. "Why would I do something like that?? Also I'm a light elemental, not a wizard. I can't deflect the ball to the posts."

"I know," is Per's response. "But you could've done something else, say, flicking a little light into your opponents' eyes so that they misdirected the ball a bit."

"I basically spend my days making sure all the supers in Arsenal don't abuse their powers both on and off the pitch, Per. Why would I do something like that? That would be kinda hypocritical of me, wouldn't it??" 

"Wouldn't stop some people, if you ask me."

Bernd rolls his eyes. This is getting ridiculous. But on the other hand, he can understand why the Council gets suspicious. Leeds has come to dominate the game since Nico's red card and while Bernd has worked his butt off catching and punching every ball coming his way, the three shots hitting the posts also make sure their host doesn't walk away with three points. Once, twice, it might be understandable, but thrice?? If Bernd were in Per's position, he might've suspected that there's a supernatural interference in that matter as well.

Yet Bernd also believes that his teammates aren't likely to use their powers to cheat in a game. With him constantly reminding them about the consequences of doing so, and Hector's own paranoia, not to mention their two incidents with Matteo and Gabi, Bernd doesn't think any of them would want to deal with the Council anymore. But is that good enough to convince Per? He doesn't know.

"Well, I can understand the Council's point of view," Bernd eventually says, carefully choosing his words. "I also don't know what exactly they sensed here, or what they asked you to find. And I guess I can't give you definite proof that I, or either one of my teammates doesn't do such a thing. But I trust them, and I assure you, dealing with the Council twice is about two times more than we've ever wanted all our lives."

Maybe it's just his imagination, but Bernd swears he can see the corners of Per's lips twitch in amusement. "Bernd,  _ you _ work for the German Council."

"Don't be too loud," Bernd hisses, "I haven't told anyone about my side job yet. And I obviously meant the others. But my point still stands. Do you really think that after everything that's happened to us, we'll risk angering them even more?? We aren't that stupid. And if you still don't believe me, feel free to probe my mind, I don't care."

Silence ensues between them for a few seconds. Bernd can feel Per's eyes studying him, but as much as he wants to look away, he doesn't. He has no idea what Per expects from him, but he won't give the older man a pleasure by showing signs of weaknesses, thank you very much.

"Well, I suppose you  _ do _ have a point," Per finally concedes, and Bernd lets out a barely audible sigh of relief. "But what should I say to the Council then??"

Bernd shrugs. "I don't know. Improbable coincidence, maybe?? I mean, not everything needs to be about magic and powers, you know."

He doesn't mean to be funny, but Per throws his head backwards and bursts out laughing. In fact, he laughs so hard that Bernd's almost afraid he's going to fall from his chair.

"Oh my goodness," the enormous German wheezes, holding his stomach. "This is priceless. But yes, I guess you're right. If it turns out you guys don't do anything wrong, there's nothing we can do but to accept that as an improbable coincidence, and that you are just extremely lucky not to return home pointless."

Bernd feels a small smile starting to tug at the corners of his lips. "So you believe me?"

"I do."

"And you won't interrogate the others regarding this matter anymore?"

Per arches an eyebrow. "Just because I trust that  _ you _ don't do so and that your faith in your teammates isn't exactly baseless, doesn't mean I believe all of them are completely innocent, Bernd," he explains patiently, still with his cheery smile. "Tell Hector to come here next, will you??"

Bernd lets out a huff and stomps outside. And just to make sure Per knows how he feels, he kills one of the lights inside the room on his way out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few explanations regarding this story:
> 
>   * Per Mertesacker, as I've mentioned, is an elf. He uses concealment charm in his daily life to mask his actual pointy elf ears, especially when he's out in public.
>   * Bernd works under Per in a secret division of the German Council which basically specializes in tracking and dealing with evil supers. I might be writing about this someday...
>   * Arsenal has had two massive incidents which put them under the British Council's radar: Matteo Guendouzi's treachery (which led to him disappearing from the squad and subsequently getting sent to Hertha Berlin on loan, and Bernd having to be sidelined for a few weeks) and Gabriel Martinelli's kidnapping (which also served as the reason why he's "injured" until the end of the year). I've had the stories planned in my head and I will surely write them off once I have time.
>   * Bernd and Hector are the unofficial leaders for all the supers in the team, Hector because he's the team wizard, Bernd because he has the best control and experience over his power.
>   * And uh, the ball-hitting-the-woodwork-thrice thing was purely a coincidence. Really.
> 

> 
> So that concludes the chapter.
> 
> Kudos, comments and constructive criticisms are appreciated!
> 
> Also, feel free to ask me questions about my supernatural au through tumblr, or request something in my au about Arsenal!

**Author's Note:**

> Check my [tumblr](https://colorsofmyseason.tumblr.com/tagged/fanfiction) for more fic dumps/entries about my supernatural AU!


End file.
